Standing the Test of Time
by Lightofstar
Summary: When captured in the aftermath of a battle Spike finds himself at the mercy of his old rival Dracula. Will he be saved before its too late or will he be lulled into something even more dangerous than the Counts’ wrath? Sequel to William Restored SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I making money off this. This is just for fun.

Summary: When captured in the aftermath of a battle Spike finds himself at the mercy of his old rival--Count Dracula. Will he be saved before it's too late or will he be lulled into something even more dangerous than the Counts' wrath?

**Warning**: This is slash. It will have some Spike/Dracula and Spike/Angel in it. This is a challenge I took up to do a Dracula slash fic with the guys. I'm not usually a slash writer but I did it for this challenge, where I had to set in up some in my last fic.

Authors Note: This story takes place after my one shot "William Restored."

Spoilers: For the Peter David IDW comics Spike vs. Dracula 1-5.

_Journal of Dracula-_

_My travels in France have been cut short due to the new slayers patrolling its boarders. They are everywhere these days…except my Romani that is. Due to my patronage to tribes such as the Kalderash clan, the elders have made certain that the new Watchers council knows their place. It would not do for them to upset such powerful forces by invading lands were they are unwanted. Though I can avoid conflicts with the new slayers quite easily they are an annoyance that more often than not upset my plans. _

_I was seeking out the lovely Ms. Ames, a potential bride, when as fate would have it her cousin visited. The young lady in question an inexperience slayer, ignorant of the treaty being worked between myself and the council attacked. It seems she took offence that I chose her cousin and presumed to order us. It was amusing really that the child was arrogant enough to do so. I am certain Ms. Summers would be pleased with her trainee. _

_Dear Gabrielle seemed embarrassed by the encounter as her cousin—Julie?-_

_Proceeded to destroy the café--rather than cause my person harm. I confess my interest in the girl waned in light of such a disgraceful scene by her family and chose to visit the auction house instead. I have been hearing tales of priceless art works that have appeared that are unknown to the human world. The place is rather low both in taste and in the literal sense as it's located in the dank sewers. Demons have named it "The Trove" as it has been rumored to have items that can not be found anywhere else on earth. That alone was my reason for enduring that ill-begotten cesspool._

_I had planned to visit it before my return as it could have very well been the last time the establishment was open for business. Apparently word had reached the slayers of its existence and it would not be long before they tracked it down. I was not concerned however for I knew that by the time that happened (if it occurred) I would be home long before The Trove was raided._

_The company was not much better than the surroundings, far worse if possible. Such classless buffoons, simpletons and savages infested the place. Surprisingly I did manage to spot a few well dressed humans, and even old acquaintances. Unsurprisingly they refused to be seated near the riffraff. I chose to follow their example yet I remained standing to keep myself aware of those around me. It is never a good idea to let ones' guard down in a den of thieves, murderers and lawyers. _

_The first items auctioned did not spark my interest in the slightest, the next were paintings from an artist I despised. I would not litter my home with such distasteful works of an amateur. I was so preoccupied with these pieces of "art" I missed seeing the next lot being brought out onto the stage. The crowd became loud and several seated rose at once blocking my view. I noted that the well dressed humans, lawyers, became very interested. Despite my advance hearing even I could only make out bits and pieces of conversations._

_Words about something of great value, being "one of a pair" intrigued me. Curious despite myself I edged off to the side to get a better view. On the stage the auctioneer stood above a prone body of a man that was bound in chains. I could not see a head much less a face from my view. I knew that there were always tales of "chosen ones" though I had never seen this much interest for many years. The human on stage had some how gotten the mob under control and told of a great battle a few days before. _

_Champions of "the powers that be" he claimed were captured yet all escaped but one. A vampire with a soul. I knew then why there was so much hysteria as well as the identity of the vampire in question. It would be him, the ever lasting thorn in my side that turned up when you least expected. Spike. _

_I heard stories whispered by others about William the Bloody, slayer of slayers being "chipped" by an army. Of saving the world, winning the love of Buffy Summers, and such contradicting tales it was hard to believe any of it. I myself have underestimated him once or twice though I doubt Spikes' deeds could merit such incredible tales. An irritation to be certain, one that I have encountered a handful of times and never impressed me to the degree the others droned on about. Though I am unsure of how he could become fresh and blood since our last encounter. Perhaps…_

_A curse rang out from the stage as he struggled in vain to release himself from the chains. Like always he refused to acknowledge his betters have the advantage and that all too familiar defiance reflected in his eyes. Talk about the ways to use Spike were given by the auctioneer, a few making him shake with fury. The bids were higher than I expected for such a lowly vampire which drove the lawyers into a panic soon for not having enough funds to meet the growing bids. _

_An appealing idea started to form in my mind at this. If I won the auction I could not only deal with this annoyance personally but have the chance to sell him to Worfram and Hart at a later date for a higher price. The law firms' grudge against both souled vampires was legendary. Money wasn't even an issue as I had investments all over the world. Perhaps he could act as a lure to bring about "Angel" to repay him in full for his crimes as well._

_A large demon that had spoke of having Spike as his pleasure slave currently had the highest bid that so far no one had challenged. Just when the demon had convinced himself that Spike was his property I corrected him of the notion by outbidding him. I will never forget how Spikes' furious expression changed to a confused frown. His eyes met mine and he mumbled his favored expression "bloody hell."_

_Indeed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Ana:** Thank you for your kind word, I hope you like this chapter.

In order to have an enemy, one must be somebody. One must be a force before he can be resisted by another force. A malicious enemy is better than a clumsy friend.  
Author: Anne Sophie Swetchine

Spike was practically vibrating with rage as he took in the Counts' smug expression. The older vampire was apparently going to bask in every moment of his superior status. Not that it surprised the blonde in the least. There was not much he could do anyway as the auction house staff was waving their electric batons around in what he thought was some overly dramatic Freudian metaphor. It was a clear warning that he should not forget who had the power.

On the bright side--because he needed something to be positive about--at least the others managed to escape. Though Angel was in pretty bad shape the last time Spike had laid eyes on him. They were free and the brunette had his son to look after him. Illyria as well though he didn't fool himself into believing she could be of much comfort to Angel. The image of her offering chicken soup to a bed ridden Angel was almost enough to keep his mind off his own predicament. Almost.

Spike knew his own chances of survival were severely limited now. That it was highly unlikely that a rescue attempt would be made soon. The darker more doubtful part of him told him that the others--meaning Angel--wouldn't give a damn about him anyway. All he knew for sure was that he had his back against the proverbial wall again and had to rely on himself. Spike was determined to take the advantage to the fullest when the egotistic git finally let his guard down.

"How would you like your property to be shipped, Count?" The auctioneers' nasal voice asked safely behind the guards.

_Don't kill don't kill_, Spike silently chanted willing himself not to prove Angel right. He was not going to "get killed someday by not being able to shut the hell up." If he did he knew that he would never hear the end of it in the afterlife. His own personal hell would be Angel informing him, yet again, how unless he really was. That or sitting through another one of Andrews' home made videos.

"There are so many options are there not?" A thick accent replied bringing him back to the present. Dracula slipped on a pair of his thick leather gloves, as if Spike was too contaminated to touch and gripped his chin uncomfortably tight.

"Perhaps a muzzle?" He said with a look of great distain on his face. "It could be the only solution to make this lesser vampire keep silent. I am not sure how long I could endure his endless prattle."

"How 'bout I stake you and send you back in a matchbox you spineless wanker--" Perhaps he couldn't control himself after all. Dracula always had a talent for raising his temper as his arrogance had hit a nerve within him. In their first meeting he had even completely dismissed the younger vampire as a threat. Even after Spike had proved to him how dangerous it was to underestimate him Dracula had kept insulting him in that regard.

The grip tightened causing Spike to grunt in pain. It made him have the strangest sense of deja-vu when the Count lifted him up just like he did in 1898. It seemed that Spike could still hit nerves just as well as Dracula could.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," the dark vampires' eyes had a dangerous glint in them as he added in an equally deadly tone "I own you now. I could kill you without much effort or I can make you suffer worse than any soul could. I hold your future in the palm of my hand. I would advise you to be more careful with your words to me."

There was a delicious pause before Spike was unable to resisted raising an eyebrow and saying very slowly, in a way to one would speak to a small child: "Bugger that you son of a b--"

The punch was to be expected, the force was not. Spike never remembered him being able to throw much force behind his punches. Then again he supposed that he never actually got hit by Draculas' fist before. Strange that. The world spun and darkness soon surrounded him. An ice cold floor welcomed him back into the world.

_Another bloody basement I wager_, Spike thought darkly.

The shackles were gone but in their place were two silver bands with strange designs craved into them. One of the symbols Spike noticed was Draculas' seal placed on the middle of each of the bands. _Branding me his property, is he? _

Spike didn't care for that much and just as he was about to try to rip it off the door to the cell was open. To add insult to--well the bigger insult--he found that he wasn't even in the dungeon. No, he was put into the pantry with the cooking supplies. Teeth grit in irritation he turned his focus to the sight in front of him.

A posh middle aged woman regarded him coolly for a moment before she motioned to someone out of his view. Two of the oddest looking men Spike had ever seen came out of hiding lifting him into the kitchen before he could catch his bearings. The woman stood primly then proceeded to sniff in distain. He was truly getting sick of that reaction.

"I am Madam Drake, the caretaker of the manor of Dracula. The master wishes to speak with you now that you have awaked."

"I'm all a titter." He replied earning a rough push from behind.

"The master did not command that you remain unharmed. If you were wise you would hold your tongue. Hans and Jon are able to cripple demons within seconds."

Catching a whiff of them Spike could tell there was some truth to her claim. They were not human they were vampires, which meant that the Count was not underestimating him in this case. Though he knew that he should hope that Dracula would become overconfident it was a nice ego stroking, one that was desperately needed as of late.

Still Spike decided to play things by ear for the time being to get a chance to take in the situation. It appeared that he was Romania at Draculas' private estate not just one of his holiday homes, which Madam Drake had confirmed.

It was huge which did not surprise him; those with such large egos always tended to have homes to match. Just like Angelus he would bet Dracula would put up a fit if he had to stay one night in a run down hotel. Much less a crypt or basement.

_The git sure is high and mighty for someone who travels by shipping himself in dirt. Huh, makes me wonder how I got here. _

Glancing to his sides he sized up the goons that were sent to watch over him. Both were heavy set, though only one, the one with his long hair tied back, was taller than Spike. He was still unsure who was Hans and who was Jon. Neither had spoken though they seemed to understand well enough to appear menacing. The shorter of the two had shoulder length hair, a wider face and slant grey eyes. Their elaborate clothes were ill suited with their forms making both seem more Frankenstein-ish than gentlemanly. Since they had familiar features Spike hazarded a guess that they were related.

Madam Drake was not dressed as prim and proper as he would expect from the way she held herself. Her attire though neat was modest more peasant-like than lady-like. Her bracelet caught his eye though it was tucked under her blouse sleeve. It seemed out of place almost tacky in comparison to her elaborate necklace. Her scent was covered with other elements of the castle and…children? A mother or a nanny than though he knew that the former was much more likely.

There were plenty of long hallways, stairways and servants on the path to the master of the estate. Spike figured it was the Counts' ego again, even to his enemy the older vampire had to show off his wealth and power. Maybe it was also an attempt to make Spike feel helpless in light of his oh-so-commanding-manly-power. Whatever it was Spike was neither impressed nor intimated. He had lived with too many self important people in the past to care either way.

When the group finally came into the Counts' office, which he thought wryly put Angels' old one to shame in terms of size (_wouldn't he love to hear that_), Dracula himself waited by the window. Judging by the fact that the drapes were closed he guessed it was still day time outside but the Count just wanted to make an appearance.

_Yeah, 'cause having your bleeding back turned facing a wall when your archenemy is brought in makes such a great statement._ Dracula turned around smug as ever motioning for the blonde to sit down. Spike did so kicking his feet up onto the desk enjoying the outrage on the others' face. From behind he heard Madam Drake gasp in shock. Soon Hans and Jon were pushing him back into the chair while her ladyship hastily wiped down their masters' desk.

"I see that your insolence has not improved during your confinement."

_Arrogant tosser, assuming that little punch is going to make me cower in fear. _

"And I see your taste of deco hasn't improved within the last century of two, mate. Still got that old aunty doilies look, don't it?" _My, my look at that lovely vein popping out of sir pounce-a-lots' head._

"As crass and common as ever "William the Bloody", still lacking a respect for your betters. In your time here you will finally learn your place and to honor my home. I will suffer no more of insults to my person nor damage to my estates."

"Damage to your…? Oh yeah that's right, I ruined two of your little summer homes, didn't I? First the one with the mobs with their torches that I sent and then the one that fell into the pit when I caused Sunnydale to cave in. Huh, I forgot all about that. Such a shame really." Spike said happily, not bothering to express regret that he didn't feel. Those were a few of the memories as an unsouled demon that he could relish in.

Madam Drake looks positively angst that he would dare to say such things to her lord. The silent guards appeared to be slightly puzzled and unsure whether they should be threatening or not. Dracula was livid naturally which did not look good for Spike. He never could keep his mouth shut when he was in a tight spot. He knew that he should but it could not be helped.

It was bad enough that Spike was in this predicament in the first place he sure as hell not about to plead his case to Dracula. He could not give the Count the satisfaction of seeing him squirm especially since he knew it was what he wanted. Dracula unexpectedly took a different course than Spike anticipated.

"Tell me, how is it that you were able to become flesh and blood again? When our paths last crossed you were a ghost." The Counts' hands laced together under his chin and Spike found himself reminded of Angel again. It was a gesture the brunette used with him, to appear calm and in control. Even though it rarely convinced either of them or stopped them from arguing. Spike wondered how long it would take until Angel was healed…

"I do recall a young woman…Felicia--Who you--"

"Fred." Spike hissed through clenched teeth. _The bastards' acting like she wasn't important, to a self centered git like him I suppose she wouldn't be. All he ever saw in her was a way to get revenge on Angel and me. Then a way to keep me from haunting him by trying to make me solid again; Dracula knows nothing of that girls' worth_. "Her name's Fred."

"Ah yes, that was her name. Such a charming, if slightly babbling lady she was. I believe she meant a great deal to you--and Angel." _To bloody right she did, more than you'll ever know._ "You claimed that she could bring you back to your old self. It appears that she succeeded."

_He's baiting me, wanting me to give something away so that he can use it against me. Well he picked the wrong topic. I don't have to tell him anything of importance about that score._

"I'm solid, ain't I?"

"That did not escape my notice, no. I was merely commenting on the young ladys' determination in bringing you back. Such devotion is hard to come by, is it not?"

_Well lookie here, now he's implying that Fred and I were an item. Thinks he's got me figured, does he? _Spike shrugged as if what Fred tried to do was unremarkable. The mask was firmly in place, Dracula would not see through it. He never had in the past not expecting much from "lesser vampires" than himself.

"For some people I s'ppose it is."

"She matters a great deal to you, does she not?" _She did_.

"If you have a point I'd get to it soon I bore easily, mate."

"That does not surprise me in the least." Dracula muttered under his breath before motioning to Madam Drake. She sauntered towards him with a bottle from the side bar and a wine glass. She poured until he made a small gesture then returned to her place near her masters' side.

"This Fred cares for you also?" Dracula asked inspecting the wine with a critical eye. "She must worry for you greatly. Angel will no doubt look after her in your absence. He seemed quite fond of her."

Spike almost laughed out loud at this. The other vampire was so far off mark he was beginning to suspect that the tales of his famed ability to read people was just part of the legend.

"Course he is. He'll look after her if she'll let him. She's a big girl."

It appeared that Dracula realized his mistaken assumption when his frowned at his prisoner. Taking a dainty sip of wine he seemed ponder over what they had said.

"Now are we going to chat all day about this fetish you seem to have with Angel, Fred and me or do you actually have something to say?" Spike barked out, preferring to get the torture that was in mind for him over with rather than deal with his own memories. He was better at fighting the torments of the physical world better than the lingering ghost of his brain. The soul didn't change that aspect of him it only magnified it.

Dracula nodded at the question though Spike got the feeling he was just putting it aside for a later date. Angelus was better at this game than him. Being able to pick apart a person based on their desires, weaknesses and such. Spike even admitted to himself that was an expert in the field too. He could tell who was going to make waves in Worfram and Hart just by sitting in on a pool table.

_Never did see Knox much though, maybe if I did I'd see him for what he was. Maybe not. No matter how good you are there is always someone who slips under the radar. I intend to keep things that way with me and the Count. _

"Very well…we will be discussing about what your duties will be now." Finishing off his drink Dracula set the glass down reclining in his seat watching Spike through narrowed eyes. "Madam Drake will inform you each day what your chores will be. If you do not comply to your new station you will face the consequences. Am I making myself clear?"

Taking Spike glare as an affirmative reply Dracula continued, "You will do these duties every night and then retire to your assigned chambers immediately upon completion. Any queries you have regarding this should be--"

"Just one," Spike gestured to the silver bands locked onto his wrists, "is this some sort of Romania fashion statement or just your usual narcissist bollocks? 'Cause I gotta say mate, I'm sick of wearing gaudy jewelry."

"That is a measure to ensure you do not wander far from the castle. You will find out yourself what it's true purpose is if you are foolish enough to test me." Dracula smiled broadly saying very clearly how likely he thought that notion was. "You will never leave under your own power again. I own you and will do with you as I please. For now I bid you welcome Spike to the rest of your life. Enjoy it while you can."


	3. Chapter 3

**Yume no Zencho:** I noticed that as well, which is why I wanted to write this. I always wanted to see Spike and Dracula interact more. I hope that you do like it, thanks for the feedback.

**A/N**: _This chapter gave me more trouble than I expected. Regretfully it doesn't have Angel and crew in it but they will be along within the next few chapters. _

_Bela Ferenc Blasko of Lugos is the real name for the actor Bela Lugos who played Dracula. He had a clash with Dracula himself in issue 2 of S vs. D. __are used around words that are spoken in Romanian._

The servants were ordered not to go into the stables once the sun had set. Many of the uninformed would have guessed that a vindictive spirit was crashing about due to the snarled curses and sounds of destruction issuing from the area. The one responsible for the ruckus was no longer an incorporeal being but a souled vampire raging about his given chore. Not long after his meeting with the Count he had been given his first order by Madam Drake to clean the stables. Though she had failed to mention just how vast the area was. Shoveling the waste of the horses (because of course they were still used regularly), feeding, washing and now repairing the fence he had destroyed.

All in all it was not Spikes' dream job he never cared much for the creatures in life and was now beginning to detest them. The stench of the beasts was overwhelming enough with a humans' sense of smell for a vampire it was unbearable. Rows and rows of horses for him to clean up after and groom before the night was over with. Spike couldn't even refuse to do so as Madam Drake had informed him that he would stay until the job was done. If not he would burn upon daybreak. The section he was in offered no protection from the deadly light as the roof had _conveniently_ been removed.

No matter how much Spike hated the situation there was no way he was going to die in that fashion. Not because of the great wanker or for refusing to doing a little work. No, Spike was going to fight for his life even if the "fight" was dealing with bewildered horses.

Some were calm and easy to deal with while others attacked him on sight. It had been a battle in its self not to bite one and drain it dry. Not only did Spike feel that they were asking for it but he was starving. It must have been over a day since he last fed. Would he even be given any blood or would they make him suffer more? He hadn't asked but he had gotten the impression that Dracula meant to keep him around for a while. _Oh joy. _He would deal with that problem later, for now he just had to make sure he survived after daybreak. Any plans Spike could come up with for escape had to wait until later, if there was a later.

"Just so you know, it's never a good idea t' try an' sneak up on a vampire. You might as well come out in the open."

He had been hearing the human moving for the last few minutes. The heart beat giving away the intruder like a drum echoing throughout an empty stadium, a beacon that Spike used to pinpoint him. Not far off from him a dark head slowly rose from behind a stack of hay. Two wide eyes peered out from underneath the black fringe reflecting fear and an overwhelming curiosity.

"How old are you ten?" Spike asked curious despite himself. The boy didn't reply. He just stared at a spot over Spikes' left shoulder. "Nine?"

At the vacant expression Spike sighed in exasperation not in the mood for dealing with terrified children. He still had dozens of stalls to visit and daylight was looming closer each moment. In the old days he might have let his demon visage out to scary the kid off but the soul made him feel guilty for even considering it.

"Look, I'm a bit busy here, so if you don't mind you can toddle off now."

The boy hesitated then lifted bucket pointing at the horse in the next stall. Spike lifted an eyebrow not understanding what the other was trying to tell him. The motion was repeated this time ending with the bucket being thrust into his hand. Shrugging Spike accepted it though doubtful about trusting anything from a brat working for Dracula. Still staring at the boy as he opened the stall in question he almost had his head kicked in as a pair of hooves sprang out. The only thing that kept him from being injured was how fast he reacted to the child's frightened expression at the last moment dodging out of the way.

Having superior strength came in handy then as the beast refused to settle down without being restrained. Forcing it to eat the substance took longer than Spikes' patience would last. Just when he was about to give into the temptation of drinking the strength from the wretched creature its struggles ceased. Somewhat wary he slowly backed away from the horse sniffing the suspicious contents of the bucket.

"You drugged it? Why doesn't that surprise me?" Spike muttered darkly. "Well aren't you ever so helpful."

The boy didn't respond to his words or the tone used. He reminded Spike of Illyria when she struggled to understand a new aspect of human life. He was not certain if it was because the lad was studying him or the English tongue. From what Spike could tell most of the people in the castle appeared to understand English and Romanian.

Spike himself did know some of the language from his trip with Darla, Angelus and Drusilla. Though he never had the chance to master it on his last visit and he was sure he was a bit rusty. Spike knew from experience that it was best not to reveal this fact to the others. Who knew what information could be gleamed from eavesdropping when the servants spoke openly in front of the "ignorant foreigner." True, it would take awhile and a lot of effort on his part to relearn certain pieces again but it could be worth the trouble.

With the child Spike figured the same rules must apply even though he had helped with the wild stallion. He was still a servant of Dracula no matter how young he was. Either way even well meaning people were prone to idle gossip.

"As much as I appreciate the assist I can do fine by myself, thanks ever so." Still the youth remained silent. "Bloody hell, what are you gaping at? Fine, keep playing the silent Bob act see if I care."

Spike turned to go back intend on getting his workload over with. To his credit he managed to get two more stalls done before his impatience got the better of him again. The boy was leaning against the railing watching him as if the vampire were the most fascinating thing he ever saw.

_Poor lad must not get out much. 'Couse I'd be the same way without any telly. What am I saying I don't have a sodding telly either! No computers, cars an' no contact to the outside world! I'm going to be battier than Dru before long! _

"Oi! Quit staring at me! If you have something to say mate then say it. Don't be gaping at me for hours on end, got things to do you know."

The youths' eyes shone with understanding and immediately pulled at his collar. Unbuttoning the first two buttons of his grass stained shirt he revealed his pale neck. Spike mentally winced at the sight of the white throat feeling his suppressed hunger rearing its ugly head. His demon was crying out for a taste of the blood that his soul had denied him for too long. Lost in his inner battle Spike almost missed the markings.

Frowning at the sight he stepped closer to get a better view in the moonlight. Angry red lines were slashed about the neck. It startled Spike to see such a sight, he knew from personal experience that such a deep scar meant that the wound had been life threatening. The last such scar he recalled was one on Wesley's throat when he spied the ex-Watcher during his haunting stage.

Forcing himself to stay focused at the matter at hand Spike noted that the scar was semi-new but not as clean as Wesley's. The flesh had been ripped by teeth it was a miracle in its self that the child was alive. Predatory animals had larger teeth than the bite marks but Spike had dismissed the idea of a vampire quickly. Even fledges would not leave such messy wounds—in most cases.

"You can't speak at all, right?" Spike asked instead the logical part of his mind knowing that the chances of a reply were slim. The boy though seemed thoughtful for a moment, as if he was processing the words and then nodded.

"Can understand me at least, that's something I s'ppose." It meant that he would have to be twice as careful about muttering aloud. A bad habit Spike tended to have that he supposed had to do with being a former Big Bad. Or maybe it was part of William wanting to have his own Shakespearian aside. Either way it made him feel like a pounce to keep doing it every so often. Who talked to themselves in this day of age anyway?

_Journal of Dracula-_

_Once I am alone I ponder what is to become of Spike. I know I will not have to wait long before news spreads. Though I am considering arranging for Worfram and Hart to take him off my hands I think it is too soon. For now he is mine and will suffer for the embarrassments he has caused me. The list is long indeed: destroying two of my manors, bodily injuries in our battles due to luck and cowardly using humans to act in his stead. Spike has also denied me of my rightful vengeance against Darla, Drusilla and that imposter Bela Ferenc Blasko of Lugos! One of my brides dusted! No honor demands that he pays in kind for his crimes._

_The question is how? While it is amusing to witness his fury at being forced to work as my servant it is not enough. I had thought to test his weaknesses in hopes of devising a fitting punishment. While loyal to a fault to Drusilla and Darla I had no knowledge of their whereabouts. I assumed that he had some falling out with his lover Drusilla though I do not trust in his claims of seducing Buffy Summers. I had deduced by his angered reaction to forgetting his female companions' name that she was his new lover. _

_Spike did not take my presence well when we first met even though he knew nothing of my truth motives until later. I learned from that encounter how he reacted when he felt threatened by another man taking away his lover. Then I recalled Angels' reaction to this "Fred's" peril was just has frantic as Spikes'. Yet he did not seem the least concerned about my implications that his lover would be with another man._

_I will admit this much, Spike has handled himself admiralty well during our session. He managed to keep much from me. I will continue in my efforts until I get results. I briefly consider the likelihood of a rescue attempt being made on his behalf. According to the auctioneer there were others who fought on Spikes' side including Angel. Strange is it not to hear this when I have witnessed their distaste for each other in person. I must get more information to be able to understand my foes. _

_I called for Victor, my eyes and ears to news beyond these boarders. In all my years no one has ever been as useful a servant as he. Sometimes debts do have good outcomes for both parties. He was able to keep his life and I was able to get a skilled informant. Going through my list Victor told me that it will take some time and "a whole lot of effort" to find all the facts. I tell him that he has one week to come up with at least half of the list or else he will pay for his debt another way._

_I am certain that--_A loud knock startled him momentary from his musings.

"Master? I hope I am not disturbing you. May I come in?"

Dracula repressed the urge to sigh and closed his journal knowing that Ilie required his full attention. The man had finally learned manners enough to knock though he supposed he had been explicit about this in their last meeting. In most of his dealings being reprimanded once had been all that was required to set others on the right path.

"Enter freely and of your own will."

A slight man entered nervously glancing around the room before sitting in front of the Count. Licking his lips he took in the vampires' put on upon expression. Fumbling with his bag with one hand and brushing his comb over with the other he cleared his throat.

"The elder has requested your presence. She senses a great unease--'

"I have already informed her about my "guest." She was the one who helped me secure the grounds, was she not?" The Count asked running his index finger idly down the spine of his journal.

"O-of course Master, she just has concerns. One of which is what is to become of Mihai? After the…incident she is worried, afraid of what is to come. We all are." Ilies' sorrowful eyes gave Dracula pause to consider this, when he made no move to speak the other continued.

"You are powerful, and it is true that we have resources of our own…" He hesitated briefly before bravely meeting his masters' gaze. "There is talk though…which his dealings seem to confirm that he is….his power rivals the kind that we have not seen since Magda."

Dracula rose swiftly fury darkening his features. Grabbing the smaller man by his labels he lifted him until they were face to face. "Blasphemy! No one, not her descendants nor even_ I_ could compare to her power!"

"It is only rumors my lord! I was merely letting you know it! I meant no harm in passing it on to you!" The man's hair was askew revealing his bald forehead making his rapidly reddening head all the more apparent.

"A man of your years should know the dangers of believing in gossip, Ilie. I will forgive this transgression for now. Remember my leniency and do not attempt to count my ire again in this manner." With the slightest flick of his wrist the man was flung carelessly back into his seat. "Is that all?"

"N-n-no Master, there is still the matter of his "supporters" not to mention your new prisoner--"

"Tell me what are the concerns regarding my captive?" Dracula asked impatiently. He did not like the idea of his allies questioning his motives.

"She wants to see you in person about that. You see she has been having strange dreams as of late and wishes to know if it is Angelus--"

"It is not, I would have informed her if it was. Now what is this about the supporters of Mihai?"

"We have captured those of who he has charmed into following him. We have no means to keep them imprisoned though. We humbly request the use of your dungeons to hold them."

"To force them upon myself and others who dwell here? Why not end their struggles once and for all?" The subject of these people had already become a sore topic within his home. Barely back from his trip from France a day and already the Count had been bombarded with whispers of this upstart and his band. He feared that having them stay within the castle would only make matters worse.

"Many of them were--are our family. We do not wish to harm them, just keep them away from the fray once we are engaged with their master."

"Very well," the vampire sighed, knowing that he had to think of the tribe rather than his own desires, "I will inspect them first. I must know how dangerous they will be to make the proper arrangements."

If Ilie did not know better he would have sworn that his Master seemed almost disappointed that the new prisoners were numerous enough to fill his dungeons. What he did not know was Dracula plans for Spike had revolved around the use the dungeons would offer. Until Mihai was dealt with the bleached blonde vampire had to be taken else where. The dangers of locking him up along them were too great. Spike could join up with Mihai or worse. No, Dracula knew that the younger vampire could not be permitted to mingle with these people.

"Are you satisfied with the arrangements, Count?" Ilie asked inclining his head towards the heavily armed guards positioned around the captives.

"As much as I can be under these circumstances. Lead them in and I will make sure that they are secured." He moved no more than a step before a hail of arrows started to rain from the sky. Ducking for cover from the oncoming attack many of the sentinels were too slow to reach it. The wooden shafts soon pierced through their flesh streaming the air with blood in their wake.

Cries rang out in the night never quite succeeding in overpowering the sound of the twang of the quivers launching their airborne missiles. Still within their bounds, untouched by the carnage around them the prisoners began chanting in revered whispers. Each moment their voices grew in volume calling out to their lord. A thick fog suddenly clouded the scene hiding the humans from the archer's sights.

"Ah, so the mighty Dracula once again resorts to cheap parlor tricks. I can not say that this is a terribly shocking turn of events." An amused voice called out through the heavy fog.

"If your plan was to obtain my wrath than congratulations, you have succeeded. You shall pay for this—"

"Your threats would be more impressive if any still feared you "master." You represent the old ways that must be washed away for the new reign. Lord Mihai is the future and he will not suffer your interruptions of our progress any further." Stepping in the courtyard a large vampire swaggered into view. In a jerky motion he waved his arm forward bring forth other creatures from hiding. A small army of vampires, demons and humans joined him each baring their own weapons whether they were fangs, claws or manmade.

A swirl of mist formed into a solid figure, the black clothed form stood firmly in the middle of the circling opponents. His head proudly raised, his back straight, eyes unwaveringly focused on the leader of the group.

"Then I think it is proper time that I show you the error of your ways. "


	4. Chapter 4

Saekaeru Kibishii :_ Thank you! Writing Dracula was a lot of fun. Even though he is arrogant he has nobility that I like._

_I will admit that using Angelus did cross my mind but I have not given it serious thought. I have certain things that need to happen beforehand, if I can put Angelus in without conflicting with any of that I might use him in some form._

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In the moonlight Draculas' pale face appeared grayish, an almost sickly color. To the human eye his long nails became talons, his cloak blending into the shadows of the night. Threatening, inhuman to all who were foolish to oppose him, a vicious guardian to those he protected. That was how Ilie saw the events of that night and would retell to his tribe at their campfire.

His Master had taken on many foes at once while his remaining men had fought the others. A four armed monster had started the battle using all his long nails like small swords to strike out at the Count. The sight seemed to almost entertain the vampire as he flawlessly danced around his foe striking out with just his hands into the others' side. Though the move inflicted little damage it did not break his confidence in the slightest. It did cause the creature to snarl harshly and lash out more violently though Illie suspected it had more to do to the Counts' scorn than actual pain.

The vampire had dodged the blades coming in close to an opponent that tried to come at him from behind. With perfect timing he vanished into mist leaving the villains to impale each other instead. Removing one of the swords from his fallen foes' limp grip Dracula manage to raise it in time to block the blows of a fellow vampire. The swordplay did not last long though as his Masters' skill won out. With contempt in his eyes he sneered down at the little challenge he was offered and severed the head neatly from the neck. He turned to engage with the others not interested enough to watch the vampire turn to dust.

Dracula exchanged blows with two swords at once that held more promise than his previous nemesis had. All through it the Count's expression never wavered, proud and determined. Ilie had been frightened when a furious movement of the two fighting as one at pushed the legendary vampire back. A swipe of one blade cutting into his right arm made him feel faint but still his Master pressed on.

The other two rushed to aid their allies on threatening to overwhelm the lord. He used their overconfidence against them feigning recoiling. When one lifted his arms up for the kill shot Dracula sliced his belly, using the shock of his friend as his opening to snap his neck. Yanking out an arrow from the shoulder of one of his dead guards he advanced on the last two battling a frightened human and ignoring the other vampire. The demon took offense to this and rushed to him but his elder merely kicked him to the side.

The human while talented with a sword could not keep up with the ruthless pace that Dracula set. After being disarmed he had barely noted his defeat before his throat was ripped into by two sharp fangs. At this point the dismissed vampire had returned with a greater fury Dracula kept feeding only lifting his free arm in the last moment to drive the arrow through the heart of the other.

There was chaos afterwards, dealing with the bodies of the dead, moving the captive gypsies into the dungeons and taking care of the injured. The only one of the enemies that Ilie saw alive after the battle had been the same cocky leader of the group. Even though his allies were dead and he was captured something smug remained on his face.

"For all your claims of power and improvement that your master brings you it seems like they do not hold much weight when tested." Dracula drawled.

"You are even denser than lord Mihai believed possible. Mark my words, your arrogance will be your downfall." Raising his chin up he glared at the Count. "Do you honestly think that he would waste his men on a fruitless battle like this? You fool! You have already lost but you are too blind to see it!"

"Master, some of the prisoners are missing!" One of the guards cried out in dismay.

"A diversion." Dracula whispered more to himself than the others present.

"It begins." The leader nodded in confirmation. A second later he snatched handle of broken ax plunging it into his own chest. "Long Live Mihai!"

They watched in stunned horror as the vampire smiled in satisfaction as his body exploded into a cloud of dust. The guards eyes focused on their lord waiting to guide them in their hour of need. Dracula did not disappoint as he swiftly became business like ordering his men to different parts of his castle.

"Take search parties out and cover the area. Leave nothing unchecked. Gregory, take those you deem worthy enough to protect the household. No one is to enter without my permission."  
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"…which now that I think about it wasn't the best of ideas. Still how was I to know that Dru wanted to sing with Yoko? For all I knew she was peckish, you know? Let me tell you this mate, banshees and other beasties of the night would scamper off at that racked."

Glancing over his shoulder Spike saw the boy smile. It was so infectious that he found himself returning it before he went back to work. Always being a social creature Spike had found it much easier to get his chores done while conversing with the child. Though it was heavily edited he enjoyed telling tales of the good old days. The saner moments of Drusilla, meeting famous people, and traveling type of stories.

The youth would look on with awe eager for more information about his journeys. His face giving away his interest more than any voice could express. It was bittersweet for Spike to be reminded of his times with Dawn in his crypt where he weaved elaborate tales while she pretended not to be afraid. He missed his little bit fiercely but he could never gather the courage to face her after—

_You sleep right?  
_  
Spike figured he had about as much right to face Dawn as he did to ask Buffy to start a relationship after it happened. If either of the young women wanted things to change with him then they would have to make the first move. Dawn did seem to want to patch things up at times but the results were always the same. She would hold his gaze for a moment hope lighting her face until something crumbled in her expression and she left him alone.

_Just like big sis_, Spike thought gloomily.

The inquisitiveness of Fred had kept Spike from being entirely bored while he was a ghost. Though she would catch on a lot faster than Dawn did when he was telling a fib. She would also talk about her life in Pylea and surprisingly how much they had in common in that period. Both crazy in caves, both treated as cattle by other creatures (her demons/him humans) and their little shock devices used to keep them in line.

Needless to say she wasn't too fond of the Initiative something that caused a slightly tipsy Fred to make some rather entertaining phone calls. Spike only regretted that he couldn't see Riley Finns' face (or the Misses) when Fred told him how wrong it was to "put fake woody into a helpless vampees t' make ya'all feel manly." God he missed her too.

Connor liked to listen as well though never to the degree the girls did. He mainly wanted to hear about his mom and any funny stories claiming that he already lived enough of the bad. The kid teased him more than Spike was use to but it was all in fun. (He wasn't a name dropper though just told things like they were.)

Speaking to this mute boy had taken Spikes' mind off his troubles and for that he was grateful. He was helpful in other ways as the child had motioned to the correct manner to contain certain horses and located the needed tools. The company was what Spike appreciated the most though. Even though he had only been in Romania less than a day it felt like it had been ages since he had connected with someone. Not since before the incident had happened.

"Peter, what do you think you are doing?" A shrill voice cried out.

Spike winced, not just at the way the tone had hurt his ears but how he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard anyone approaching. A flustered looking Madam Drake stood surrounded by Hans, Jon and several guards. The boy, Peter he presumed, slid off the fence he had been watching from to join the group. He had barely reached them when the woman pulled him in close for a tight embrace.

"Good lord…are you hurt? Did he do anything to you Peter?"

Peter shook his head appearing quite embarrassed at the scene she was making. Heedless of this she quickly checked out his neck for herself before glaring at the vampire.

"It is a very good thing that you didn't hurt him, vampire."

Spike was about to make a remark about them letting a kid carelessly wander about when he caught Peters' pleading look. The poor boy didn't seem to like all the attention he was getting. Noting it Spike tactfully changed course to a subject far more relevant to their current situation.

"Did the great git miss me?" Spike smirked. "And we haven't even been parted for long."

A shove to the side slammed him into the ground followed by a sharp kick. Just when he was about to pull himself up to retaliate Madam Drake cried out.

"No! We do not have time for this nonsense! We must go inside immediately!"

She held onto Peter firmly motioning for the others to hurry up. Hans and Jon yanked Spike along as they followed leaving Spike to struggle to stay upright so he wasn't dragged. All too soon their talk changed from English to Romanian in an attempt to keep Spike out of the loop. He strained to understand it, picking up some of the speech but missing the meaning of others. Piecing together the bits he knew Spike gathered that a fight was happening outside and that his guide was worried about her son, Peter.

Not that Spike needed to translate to be able to guess the last bit. It seemed pretty obvious by the way the woman doted on the boy that they were very close. The scent of her fear had barely lessened with the presence of the guard. Her pointed looks made it easy to figure out who she was worried about at the moment though.

The guards whispered of some bloke Spike had never heard of needing to be kept away from "the English one" and had to wonder at that. He stored that information away for a later date. They rose though several stairways up so many levels that he knew without a doubt that they had to be near the top of the castle.

Why are they taking me up instead of going to the bleeding dungeons? He frowned at the thought. Maybe there were towers that he would be locked away into? That idea didn't make much sense to him either. It would not give proper security, not if they were anything like the other towers he had been in.

Madam Drake suddenly raised her hand up to halt the group in the middle of a long corridor. Standing between the boy and Spike she reached into her pocket to withdrawn a set of keys. Spike had no idea how anyone could recall which key was used for what purpose. There had to be hundreds of keys yet Madam Drake easily picked out the one she needed and unlocked the door,

"This will be your new chambers where you will stay until you are called for your duties."

Poking his head to the side Spike was able to get a better look at the room. Still confused at the way his enslavement was being treated he cocked his head to the side to regard the woman.

"Are...you can't be serious…I'm staying here? What happened to the bars, cold basements and all that rot?"

"Would you rather stay somewhere else that would better fit your…,"her mouth curled nastily as she added, "status?"

With the combined effort of the two dim vampires Spike was thrown bodily into the room. Snarling he rushed back towards the doorway only to be forced back by some unseen force. Startled he pushed futilely against the invisible barrier.

"However we have made preparations for you. As you can see the bracelets you are wearing make it impossible to leave this room…which I confess I did not expect." Madam Drake did seem puzzled by the reaction as she herself could not get her hand pass the unseen wall. One of the grunts either Hans or Jon (the tall one) had managed to pass the threshold to push Spike backwards much to her dismay.

"Different spells have been placed all over the estate that works in other manners. I am not a witch so I have no idea what they do other than keep you in your place. The Master has had these spells placed by gypsies. From my experience all of their magic has always worked wonderfully in the past."

Spike snorted. From his experience the gypsies had no idea how to make a decent curse last, instead they put on dangerous idiotic causes. Even all their knowledge hadn't kept Darla, Drusilla and him from killing them in revenge. No magic was without risks anyway, not that he would tell her that. He could always test it later.

"You will be called for tomorrow, for now you may rest. Good night."

Spike wanted to make a cutting remark but in light of the sad face Peter was making as he waved goodbye all he could do was wave back. The door closed and locked leaving him alone again. He had to admit it was a huge step up from his other imprisonment and even a few of his dwellings. The Hyperion Hotel had a cozy feeling to it that touched his soul. Maybe it had to do with the way Fred went on about it during his ghost days. Or the smile it brought to the others when it was mentioned. It was a far cry from the Sunnydale days of basements, bathrooms and crypts for sure.

It was nice having an apartment with his own space above ground. Still it wasn't anywhere as spacious as this room. The designs were richer, with lush materials draping it and expensive furniture.

"Bloody hell I'm in sodding Slytherin." Spike remarked taking in the dark green and silver color scheme.

Thick carpets under his feet, heavy curtains covering the windows and comfortable bedding on the four poster bed were so familiar it was almost surreal. A set of dark wood table and chairs, a couple of bookcases and even a fireplace just like what he had unsouled. The type of room Drusilla and he would cuddle up in whenever they came upon a well to do victim. It shamed the soul almost as much as it comforted it. Sure the bedroom was overdone but the romantic in him liked the memories of snuggling with a lover under the covers in this kind of room. He hadn't done so since…

With a sigh Spike knew where his mind was headed, where he had been trying to avoid ever since they had been separate. On Angel. Things had never been the same since their little secret happened. They hardly spoke to each other anymore without trying to beat one another into a blood pulp. Angel made it all to clear that he never wanted to mention what had occurred but Spike couldn't help thinking about it. At night when he was alone (because he was always alone now) he would recall what it was like. The sharing, the sensations both physical and emotional unlike anything he had felt before.

Some times he thought he had dreamed the whole thing up and believed it wholeheartedly. How could Angel have treated him so well? Simple he hadn't, it was just a dream. Other times it was painfully familiar so much so that it felt like his chest was emptied by the repeated damage that was inflicted on it. Various pulls, yanks and stabs that he knew logically shouldn't affect an unbeating heart. He felt them all the same.

Spike knew that he should hate him but he could not help worrying about the other vampire. The others had barely managed to carry Angels' beaten form away before Spike was recaptured. Were they all alright?


	5. Chapter 5

**Saekaeru Kibishii**: Thank you:) Well things are going to be very confusing for Spike in upcoming chapters. Dracula will have a lot on his plate as well. You'll see in this chapter how Angel and the others are faring. I can't promise Angelus at this point but we'll see what happens further on. Thanks for the feedback it helps inspire me to write more.

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Exhaustion had been an old friend to him over the years. He had been tired physically from battles that never seemed to end and from running from other conflicts. Always running away from his problems until they finally caught up with him. While others paid the price and cleaned up after him seemed to be a recurring theme. Of course logically he did know that this incident was not his fault but that didn't keep him the guilt at bay for long.

With a sigh he brushed his brown bangs out of his eyes again absently promising himself to cut them at a later date. He just hadn't felt like bothering before and now had other more urgent concerns. Glancing at the sparse room he considered his options. There weren't many. The slayers barely trusted them to begin with and attempting to move now would only give them an excuse to act on their fears. Not to mention his doubt that Illyria would even listen to him, she always tended to be far more attentive to Spike and even then she hardly listened to him half the time. There was the poor condition of the prone figure lying in the cot in the corner of the room to consider as well.

"Your restless pacing is irritating and pointless. Cease before I still you myself." The old one said from her spot near the blinds.

She stood stiffly on the other side of the room, watching a crawling spider climb up the wall. She had not moved in over three hours nor spoken more a few curt sentences. Needless to say she was not the best of company.

"Sorry, I just don't like waiting. It's not really something I'm good at."

"Did you not use to stalk your prey?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the spider.

"Uh…well yeah, but that was different. It was before I knew about things like, i-pods and game boys to pass the time." He shrugged.

"They are addictive and annoying devices that fail to hone your senses." There was a pause as she finally faced him. Her head tilted slightly. "You could not even get pass level 5."

There was a tone of smugness in Illyrias' voice reminding him of Spikes' similar teasing. Maybe Angel was right, she was spending too much time with the other vampire. Taking the unused cot Connor sat down heavily.

"I just don't like to wait when the people I care about are hurt." He said ignoring her pervious statement. "I can't even do anything else for him but watch him suffer…we don't even know what happened to Spike."

Illyria was now completely ignoring the spider though her eyes did not seem to be focusing on anything. Her face had a far off look to it that she sometimes got when Worfram and Hart were mentioned. It reminded Connor of the times he would ask his father or Spike about their past. A type of sorrow filled their faces as the recalled the people and places that no longer existed in this time. The curse of immortals to care for those who died and could never be replaced. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved that he appeared to have not inherit his parents immortality or feel sorry for the vampires when his passing would add to their list of departed love ones. Connor could not see himself meaning much to Illyria though.

"Why have these feeling if all they do is cripple you? Once my might would have made the bravest gods tremble before me. Now I am reduced to emotions that are all consuming. I am made weak by this shell and its needs." She glanced at Angels' bruised form. "I feel pity for this half-breed and fury for my missing pet."

Connor noted the almost relieved tone she used when speaking of her anger. He guessed she was happy for the return of familiar emotions and couldn't blame her. Anger was another old friend that he knew well. It made you feel powerful, so he wasn't too surprised by the way Illyria embraced it.

"I will rip his captures limb for limb and make them watch as I rip out their hearts and feed them back to them. I will destroy all their senses except for their pain and make them beg for death." Illyria seemed almost pleased with the idea and Connor had to hold back a groan. He knew from past experiences that when Illyria was on a rant like this it was going to be a long one.

Instead of listening to her his thoughts turned to what had occurred over the last few months. Even though Connor was sick of the never ending fights he had decided to help his father (emotionally) for awhile after the Black Thorn battle. Angel needed the support afterwards and he had given it yet he had held off joining the fight for some time. It had been a pleasant surprise to see that Angel was recovering due to other support he was receiving from Spike. Although he had meant the blond vampire before they had not know what each others' relationship to was Angel. He could see that Spike was as curious about him as he was about the vampire. Connor had not expected to like him much given the rivalry between he and his father but he had.

Angel had been very pleased, something that hadn't fit until the visits became more frequent. Connor had noticed the two becoming closer and was happy that for both of them. He had even planned to spend the weekend at the hotel thinking it would be a blast. It hadn't been. For some reason the two were acting coldly to each other. Their previous playful banter turning into hurtful barbs that made him wince in sympathy. He had no idea what had happened to change their relationship so drastically as neither one would speak about it.

On his last day he had been sparring with Spike. Though still not as good as the vampire he had done well getting more hits in than he usually did. Spike himself seemed distracted to the point that it unsettle their usually fun matches. Claiming to be thirsty Connor had ended the session early and both had left the basement to get their drinks of choice. Later on in the evening he had been in the hotel lobby reading when Spike went back to the basement to retrieve his jeans from the dryer. Connor had heard him take three steps down the stairs until he stopped with a curse.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Spike hissed.

"I happen to live here Spike." Angel replied in an annoyed voice.

Connor tensed unsure if he should be thankful for the advance hearing he had or flee so he didn't have to listen to another argument. In his moment of indecision the conversation went on before he could choose.

"Really? You happen to live on these stairs? Is that why your fat arse is stuck in the middle of it?"

"My arse--ass is none of your concern Spike!" Connor jumped back as if stuck at the level of venom in his fathers' voice. "This is my basement in my hotel so I can sit where ever the hell I feel like. What are you doing here Spike? Going to return to where you belong?"

There was an unsettling silence and he could clearly see in his mind the glares the two threw at each other. Spike must have been struggling to control himself as his voice shook slightly with anger as he answered: "I left something down there, alright? Now are you going to move that thick Mick forehead of yours out of the way? Or are you going to be a _good boy_ and get it for me, _luv_?"

The harsh sarcasm at the last part made Connor feel like he was missing a big part of the conversation. He did not have a chance to figure it out however before Angel laughed so cruelly that his blood went cold. He had not heard such a laugh from his father since Angelus.

"Do you think I'm ever going to go down for _you_?"

The words had barely left his mouth before what sounded like a sharp crack came which was shortly followed by a thunderous crash. Leaping into action Connor rushed towards the basement entrance to see Spike shaking with rage. His fist clenched so tightly that Connor wasn't shocked when he smelled blood. At the bottom of the stairs was his father laying against the cage with a trail of blood oozing from his mouth and the cuts on his forehead.

"What happened?!"

"Your da just decided to fetch my kit. That's all." Spike replied emotionlessly.

The following week Connor had decided to stay to look after both of them. For a month they had been together and little had changed. Everything became a weapon to use against the other including him. Angel had become worried for Connors' safety and Spike would counter that by saying that he was a big boy that could look after himself. He thought that the blond was only partly referring to him and had a hidden meaning to his words. Most of the fights appeared to be using some sort of code that no one outside them understood. Well except for Illyria who brought up "weaknesses", "distasteful" and something about the wisdom of prey mantises.

A case brought the group into a tough demon crowd and Angel had opted to leave the rest of the team behind. Only the tough demons of the group would fit in anyway. So it had been Connor, his father, Spike and Illyria.

What they had not expected was for a pure blooded demon group to crash the party and try to get revenge on Angel for some past misdeed that wasn't clear to Connor. They spoke of the four of them as if they were vermin talking about the impureness that their human half gave them. That had set Illyria off and many of the demons died brutally as a result. They all had fought well but the odds were not in their favor.

Angel had been beaten well after their capture for his last run in. All of them would have died horrible if not for one of the surviving demons suggesting that they "market the cattle" to raise their depleted funds. Being shipped in tight crates with two holes stabbed through had made Connor light headed when they finally arrived at the auction house. Spike had whispered that Illyria had been awake when they were brought in. She claimed that she could recall the way out. The only problem was the guards and in Angels' condition they would never have a chance of escaping.

That was when Spike went into action attacking the guards, yelling for Illyria and Connor to take Angel and run for it. (Again with the running.) Illyria had looked uncetain for a moment but saw the logic in his demand. Connor had taken longer to decide not wanting to leave the blond behind. Seeing his fathers' broken form had helped him choose and he promised himself that they would do everything they could to rescue Spike.

When they surfaced Connor did not recognize anything and was frantic with a need to protect his demon family. Reaching into Angels' jacket he found the hidden pocket that his father kept a couple items for safe keeping. One of which he knew was a small phone book with numbers Angel had gotten before the Black Thorn fight. Flipping through he caught the name that he was looking for, the one he was only suppose to use in cases of emergency.

It had taken forever to find where they were, even longer to find a pay phone and longer still to find another after Illyria had ripped the first open to retrieve the change. Connor had waited for twenty minutes lucky to catch her when she had just came home. She didn't know who he was and wanted to be sure it wasn't a joke. He had no idea how to convince her when Illyria had taken over the phone. Her voice changed to Freds' Texan drawl talking in a panicked voice about Angel being in trouble. That had convinced the woman on the other line who told them where to go and who to talk to, promising that she would arrive as soon as she could.

The other slayers they had met weren't as helpful. Though they allowed the trio to enter they never lowered their weapons or took their eyes off of Angel. Thankfully Illyria had sense enough to listen to Connors' suggestion to change her appearance to Freds'. Otherwise he felt that things would have been more uncomfortable for them. They were brought to a small room and told to stay until the other slayer arrived for them.

Angel was in bad shape with his arms and legs twisted at odd angles. Not trusting Illyria to be gentle Connor tried his best to clean and fix the worse of the wounds. The blankets helped but he knew his dad would need blood. He highly doubted he could ask the slayers for any. When he pulled his sleeve down to consider feeding his blood to the vampire Illyria had stopped him informing him that Freds' memories had Angel reacting violently to his sons' blood.

_Great so I can't feed him without having him go crazy or feeling guilty._

Running out of options quickly he went to the next order of business: resetting Angels' arms and legs. Connor didn't want to do it; he had already caused his dad too much pain in the past. It needed to be done though and Illyria was more likely to rip out his limbs then help fix them. Gritting his teeth he went about the process of re-breaking the wrongly healed bones and setting them into the proper alignment.

It wasn't an experience that he ever wanted to repeat. Angel cried out in pain only to be silenced when the agony became too much to bare. Using the materials around the room Connor was able to construct crude splints until the bones could heal. They had been waiting so long that he had no idea if it was even the same day. The slayers hadn't even bothered to check on them after Angel had screamed.

"—and the wretched bile that has humiliated me will wither in my grasp screaming out for mercy. " Illyria finished unaware that Connor had long since stopped listening.

" Uh…that's umm…"

"I don't know…sounds like a freaky way to spend a weekend to me." The voice from the doorway called out and that was when Faith made herself known.


	6. Chapter 6

**Merenwen** : Thank you very much! Their very hard to get right so I do try my best. I wanted this story to have more to it than just Dracula/Spike or Angel/Spike. I will have more of the Mihai plot in the next few chapters. Let's just put it this way, Dracula was warned. ;) I'm glad you find it interesting.

**Saekaeru Kibishii**: I was considering having team Angel appear earlier but the timing wasn't right. Illyria may not understand human emotion much but she isn't blind to other emotions and if they distract her she'll comment on them. :D I love Faith too, she's my favorite slayer though that's not the reason I put her in here. She is very loyal to Angel and I can not see Buffy fitting into this plot. Faith does though.

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"I'm guessing you'd be Connor." Faith said with a slight nod in his direction.

It was a lot better than her first indirect greeting to the "kid" he supposed. It was nice that in some cases you could make a better first impression. She pursed her lips studying Freds' form for a moment and Connor felt his stomach flip unpleasantly. How much did she know? Would he have to keep up the lie? He hoped not, his life was already consumed by too many falsehoods.

"You're Fred, right?" There was an uncertain look on Faiths' face as she closed the door behind her. "Least you were. Way I hear it you're just using that body as a time share to carry you around."

The slayer leaned against the door arms crossed her stormy expression belying her relaxed stance. Illyria didn't seem impressed but a glimmer of curiosity lit her face. Connor tensed unsure how to play this turn of events. From what he could recall Faith had been willing to save Angel, even in Angelus' form, at all cost. She had even threatened him if he crossed that line. Then again it wasn't like they had many options, his father was in a coma, Spike was sold by now in some slave market and the others of Angel Investigations were currently unreachable. She was their last hope and if Faith didn't help them who would?

"Funny thing, I was on my way here when I got a call from home base. Seems like team Angel had called for help after Fred was killed by some demon." Staring the god king in the eye her voice hardened when she asked: "That's you right?"

Illyria cocked her head to the side and paused as she regarded Faith. With a satisfied nod she shed her disguise revealing her true form. Faiths' eyes widen fractionally but otherwise remained unmoved.

"Yes, that is true. I am Illyria god king and I now dwell in the shell Winifred Burkle once inhabited. You are Faith Lehane, a slayer."

That triggered a reaction. Faith stood up straight, her body taking up a more defensive posture. "Yeah……and how would you know something like that?"

"Wesley informed me." Illyria answered simply.

Connor was amazed by the range of emotions that passed over the slayers' face. Confusion, anger, sorrow, it reflected Wesley's countenance when Faith had been close to death when she had taken Orpheus. At least she knew that much about her former watchers' fate.

"Wes……what you know about him?" Faith challenged hotly.

"Our time together was fleeting. In the eyes of a god it was shorter than a blink of an eye. He was my guide to this plane, attempting to make me understand the conflicting natures of this meaningless existence." Illyria's eyes glazed over taking on the familiar far away look. Just as quickly as it had came on she cleared whatever thoughts were plaguing her returning to the here and now. Illyria held her head high and glared at the slayer.

"You were the one who he guided for a time, before you bit at the hand that feed you like a ravenous dog mewling for attention. A wayward child that was petulant for affection and searching for your own forms of satisfaction creating mayhem in your wake."

Faith appeared to have warring emotions to her response, not sure which to settle for. "He said--? Things changed since then, I changed, okay? Were you trying to make a point, blue? Cuz I ain't seeing it."

"Merely to illustrate that you have little room to judge my actions nor my character when you one of what Wesley called, "humanity" has acted in a manner your kind see as distaseful. You could not begin to understand my nature. I suggest you not try to strain yourself in doing so." Illyria answered. Her attention wavered briefly between the young woman and the spider reaching for it's web in the corner.

"Huh, bet she's loads of laughs." Faith remarked. Connor noted the distrust that still remained but he could tell that she was letting that go for the moment. Taking the fold out chair she sat next to the vampire on the cot. Her eyes moved over his form taking in the makeshift bandages and bruises that covered most of the body. She ignored Connor and Illyria to whisper to her friend not knowing that the young man could hear every word.

"Never could stay away from trouble huh? Kinda weird that you're the one doing the coma thing. I sort of thought that was my gig but hey it's cool if you want to use it just as long as you wake up soon. Don't really like having a guy sleep while I'm up and ready to go." She quipped. With a small pat and a quick squeeze of his hand she addressed the others.

"Alright, this is how it's going to be. Angel needs blood and the quickest way to heal him is human blood, even better is slayers'."

"You're going to--?" It was shocking to hear Faith so causally speak about feeding herself to his father. Although he knew about her commitment to Angel he had believed that she wouldn't rush into being bitten again. She had almost died the last time.

"Yeah, don't know if he's strong enough to bite yet so I'm just going to cut and see how it goes." Shrugging out of her leather jacket she pulled her leg up to unsheathe a dagger. "Not sure how long it will take either. You might be in for a long wait, I figure that makes it a good time to tell me what the hell happened. Might want to sit down if this makes you sick, man, 'cuz your going to get an eye full." She said mistaking Connors' reaction to her cutting herself for lightheadedness.

"Uh, I'm good. I've seen plenty of gory things just a little surprised I guess. That you would be willing to help so fast."

"Angel and I go back awhile. He helped me when everyone else gave up on me." Faith replied pressing her wound to Angels' unresponsive lips forcing some blood to slid down his throat. Connor just nodded as if he didn't know of Faiths' past and sat back on his cot feeling useless. When she reminded not to gently of her demand to be filled in on the details of their current situation he tried to comply the best he could. Illyria had the most useful information about the Troves' location though the demons' attention was half on the spider ensnaring it's prey in it's web.

The dark haired vampire had managed to swallow for awhile and when Faith began to feel dizzy she stopped. Promising to feed him more blood and information once she recovered. When she left the three alone again nothing though had changed from what Connor could see. His dad was still in bad shape and he had no idea how long it would take for him to heal. He had not seen his father for awhile after Wesley had pulled him from the ocean floor so past experiences were no use either. Another day passed without a word from Faith though the other slayers had at least given him some sandwiches and soda. He felt it would have been a better gesture if the girl that had given his meals hadn't been holding a sword.

Illyria ate little and Connor had no idea if she even required food or was just curious. She did remark on the merits of texture and debated about the churned peanut butter verus the chunky one for a hour. It was a much needed improvement over her interest in mating. He did find it beyond disturbing that she was intrigued in insect mating the most and the disconcerting way she would smile when the male was killed afterwards. Talk about how she would treat her consorts made him glad that he got over that leather fetish he use to have.

It was just the leather fetish because Connor knew that he had never been attracted to Fred. Angelus had called Cordelia his mother figure but in truth he had always felt that Fred filled that role or at least was a big sister figure. Their time together those three months had been some of the best real memories he owned.

Yes they were tainted when he had to lie about Angel but most of them were great. Gunn and Fred had pampered him taking him to movies, slaying together and trips to the mall. Fred had always brought him meals telling him how skinny he was (even then he had to raise an eyebrow at her for that comment) and babying him. She had never gotten over his betrayal and had been twitchy after Jasmine had seduced him in Cordelias' body. He always regretted that they had never made peace with each other. Now they never would.

When Faith finally returned she was seething and Connor felt reluctant to ask why. Slipping a cell phone in her jacket pocket she used the other to slam the door shut behind her. Without a word of greeting to either of them she sat down next to Angel. He flinched at the way Faith carelessly slashed her arm with her dagger but the young woman seemed unfazed. At the moment she only at eyes for the vampire. Just when Connor felt the feeding had gone on long enough Angels' eyes opened. It had been the first time his dad had done anything in days. Overjoyed Connor rushed over only to be flung back by Faith.

"F--Faith?"

"Yeah. How you feeling, man? I thought you'd be up sooner the way Wes..." She trailed off.

"Will take...a bit longer." Angel responded before going into a coughing fit. Unable to lift his head it flopped back due to the strain. He still attempted to look over Faiths' shoulder to see who else was with them. Connor noted the way his nostrils flared trying to get the others' scents. He must of failed judging by the defeated slump of his shoulders. Risking Faiths' apparent short temper Connor came closer to meet Angels' relieved gaze.

"Just lay back and look pretty...well as much as you can." Faith grinned. "We got some of the girls breaking up the Trove joint. Seems your blue girl was right about where it was."

Angel nodded distractedly and closed his eyes for a moment. When his burrow furrowed Connor tensed for what he knew was going to be a doozy of scene. Frowning at Faith the vampire looked about the room as far as he could. "Did you duct tape Spike? He's never been this quiet for so long. Well not unless he was unconscious and believe me it's always fun to wipe the smug expression off his face."

His body tense language belied his words though Illyria however did not realize this and was quick to agree with Angel. "Yes, the half breed makes the most pleasing noises and expressions when he is injured. It is most satisfying."

When Faith was about to comment on the demons' remark Angel chose that time to struggle to sit up. "Where is that little moron? If he thinks that--"

Connor saw the panic and fear in Angels' eyes but had no idea how to quell them. All he had ironically enough was what had been denied to him most of his life: the truth. "He's not here. Spike stayed behind to give us the chance to escape."

"He did WHAT?" Another coughing fit broke out and Faith used it to her advantage. She pressed him down against the cot giving him no room to fight back. Not that Angel could put up much of a fight in his weak condition for long. "You left him behind?"

"The white haired one said it was for the best. That it was what you would have done." Illyria answered in Connors' stead.

For a second he saw guilt on Angels' face then nothing as the expression closed off. The slayer was whispering promises of help but the vampire didn't seem to hear her. His mouth formed into a grim but determined line that worried Connor but Faith either didn't notice or chose not to make a big deal out of it. Angel absently thanked her for her help and asked to be left alone to sleep. Once she had left Connor was at his side again clasping his limp hand.

"How many days has it been?"

"Three, dad. Faith hasn't told us anything yet but I heard the other slayers talking through the vents this morning saying that he was sold." Connor replied preempting the question he knew was coming about Spikes' whereabouts. "They didn't know who bought him yet."

He didn't mention that many of the slayers didn't care what happened to the blond vampire. Apparently the only reason they were even helping was because Faith had asked them to do so. Many of them thought that Illyria and him were idiots for being "friends of monsters." It made him wonder how they would react to hearing that they were demons as well. According to Spike the slayers were part demon too and of course didn't see themselves that way. Figures.

"Once you find out we'll leaving, help or no help. I'm not about to lose Spi--another member of my team." Angel said glaring angrily at his surrounding.

Connor doubted his father would be listening to him anyway in his current mood but agreed all the same. In the distance he heard Faith curse as her cell went off and open it with a snap. Her temper soon came back as she told the person on the other end that they didn't make her choices. He didn't want to overhear but it was next to impossible to block out.

"This is part of who I am, alright? If you can't handle it then you can't handle me!" She sighed then adding softer, "I know baby and I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But I was on the other side too. You don't know what it's like...yeah. Yeah. I guess so. Whatever."

The cell snapped shut and Faiths' boots echoed heavily down the hallway. The young man felt that before this mission was over they all would be losing something or another. He was just afraid what the price would be for Angel."I'm guessing you'd be Connor." Faith said with a slight nod in his direction.

It was a lot better than her first indirect greeting to the "kid" he supposed. It was nice that in some cases you could make a better first impression. She pursed her lips studying Freds' form for a moment and Connor felt his stomach flip unpleasantly. How much did she know? Would he have to keep up the lie? He hoped not, his life was already consumed by too many falsehoods.

"You're Fred, right?" There was an uncertain look on Faiths' face as she closed the door behind her. "Least you were. Way I hear it you're just using that body as a time share to carry you around."

The slayer leaned against the door arms crossed her stormy expression belying her relaxed stance. Illyria didn't seem impressed but a glimmer of curiosity lit her face. Connor tensed unsure how to play this turn of events. From what he could recall Faith had been willing to save Angel, even in Angelus' form, at all cost. She had even threatened him if he crossed that line. Then again it wasn't like they had many options, his father was in a coma, Spike was sold by now in some slave market and the others of Angel Investigations were currently unreachable. She was their last hope and if Faith didn't help them who would?

"Funny thing, I was on my way here when I got a call from home base. Seems like team Angel had called for help after Fred was killed by some demon." Staring the god king in the eye her voice hardened when she asked: "That's you right?"

Illyria cocked her head to the side and paused as she regarded Faith. With a satisfied nod she shed her disguise revealing her true form. Faiths' eyes widen fractionally but otherwise remained unmoved.

"Yes, that is true. I am Illyria god king and I now dwell in the shell Winifred Burkle once inhabited. You are Faith Lehane, a slayer."

That triggered a reaction. Faith stood up straight, her body taking up a more defensive posture. "Yeah……and how would you know something like that?"

"Wesley informed me." Illyria answered simply.

Connor was amazed by the range of emotions that passed over the slayers' face. Confusion, anger, sorrow, it reflected Wesley's countenance when Faith had been close to death when she had taken Orpheus. At least she knew that much about her former watchers' fate.

"Wes……what you know about him?" Faith challenged hotly.

"Our time together was fleeting. In the eyes of a god it was shorter than a blink of an eye. He was my guide to this plane, attempting to make me understand the conflicting natures of this meaningless existence." Illyria's eyes glazed over taking on the familiar far away look. Just as quickly as it had came on she cleared whatever thoughts were plaguing her returning to the here and now. Illyria held her head high and glared at the slayer.

"You were the one who he guided for a time, before you bit at the hand that feed you like a ravenous dog mewling for attention. A wayward child that was petulant for affection and searching for your own forms of satisfaction creating mayhem in your wake."

Faith appeared to have warring emotions to her response, not sure which to settle for. "He said--? Things changed since then, I changed, okay? Were you trying to make a point, blue? Cuz I ain't seeing it."

"Merely to illustrate that you have little room to judge my actions nor my character when you one of what Wesley called, "humanity" has acted in a manner your kind see as distaseful. You could not begin to understand my nature. I suggest you not try to strain yourself in doing so." Illyria answered. Her attention wavered briefly between the young woman and the spider reaching for it's web in the corner.

"Huh, bet she's loads of laughs." Faith remarked. Connor noted the distrust that still remained but he could tell that she was letting that go for the moment. Taking the fold out chair she sat next to the vampire on the cot. Her eyes moved over his form taking in the makeshift bandages and bruises that covered most of the body. She ignored Connor and Illyria to whisper to her friend not knowing that the young man could hear every word.

"Never could stay away from trouble huh? Kinda weird that you're the one doing the coma thing. I sort of thought that was my gig but hey it's cool if you want to use it just as long as you wake up soon. Don't really like having a guy sleep while I'm up and ready to go." She quipped. With a small pat and a quick squeeze of his hand she addressed the others.

"Alright, this is how it's going to be. Angel needs blood and the quickest way to heal him is human blood, even better is slayers'."

"You're going to--?" It was shocking to hear Faith so causally speak about feeding herself to his father. Although he knew about her commitment to Angel he had believed that she wouldn't rush into being bitten again. She had almost died the last time.

"Yeah, don't know if he's strong enough to bite yet so I'm just going to cut and see how it goes." Shrugging out of her leather jacket she pulled her leg up to unsheathe a dagger. "Not sure how long it will take either. You might be in for a long wait, I figure that makes it a good time to tell me what the hell happened. Might want to sit down if this makes you sick, man, 'cuz your going to get an eye full." She said mistaking Connors' reaction to her cutting herself for lightheadedness.

"Uh, I'm good. I've seen plenty of gory things just a little surprised I guess. That you would be willing to help so fast."

"Angel and I go back awhile. He helped me when everyone else gave up on me." Faith replied pressing her wound to Angels' unresponsive lips forcing some blood to slid down his throat. Connor just nodded as if he didn't know of Faiths' past and sat back on his cot feeling useless. When she reminded not to gently of her demand to be filled in on the details of their current situation he tried to comply the best he could. Illyria had the most useful information about the Troves' location though the demons' attention was half on the spider ensnaring it's prey in it's web.

The dark haired vampire had managed to swallow for awhile and when Faith began to feel dizzy she stopped. Promising to feed him more blood and information once she recovered. When she left the three alone again nothing though had changed from what Connor could see. His dad was still in bad shape and he had no idea how long it would take for him to heal. He had not seen his father for awhile after Wesley had pulled him from the ocean floor so past experiences were no use either. Another day passed without a word from Faith though the other slayers had at least given him some sandwiches and soda. He felt it would have been a better gesture if the girl that had given his meals hadn't been holding a sword.

Illyria ate little and Connor had no idea if she even required food or was just curious. She did remark on the merits of texture and debated about the churned peanut butter verus the chunky one for a hour. It was a much needed improvement over her interest in mating. He did find it beyond disturbing that she was intrigued in insect mating the most and the disconcerting way she would smile when the male was killed afterwards. Talk about how she would treat her consorts made him glad that he got over that leather fetish he use to have.

It was just the leather fetish because Connor knew that he had never been attracted to Fred. Angelus had called Cordelia his mother figure but in truth he had always felt that Fred filled that role or at least was a big sister figure. Their time together those three months had been some of the best real memories he owned.

Yes they were tainted when he had to lie about Angel but most of them were great. Gunn and Fred had pampered him taking him to movies, slaying together and trips to the mall. Fred had always brought him meals telling him how skinny he was (even then he had to raise an eyebrow at her for that comment) and babying him. She had never gotten over his betrayal and had been twitchy after Jasmine had seduced him in Cordelias' body. He always regretted that they had never made peace with each other. Now they never would.

When Faith finally returned she was seething and Connor felt reluctant to ask why. Slipping a cell phone in her jacket pocket she used the other to slam the door shut behind her. Without a word of greeting to either of them she sat down next to Angel. He flinched at the way Faith carelessly slashed her arm with her dagger but the young woman seemed unfazed. At the moment she only at eyes for the vampire. Just when Connor felt the feeding had gone on long enough Angels' eyes opened. It had been the first time his dad had done anything in days. Overjoyed Connor rushed over only to be flung back by Faith.

"F--Faith?"

"Yeah. How you feeling, man? I thought you'd be up sooner the way Wes..." She trailed off.

"Will take...a bit longer." Angel responded before going into a coughing fit. Unable to lift his head it flopped back due to the strain. He still attempted to look over Faiths' shoulder to see who else was with them. Connor noted the way his nostrils flared trying to get the others' scents. He must of failed judging by the defeated slump of his shoulders. Risking Faiths' apparent short temper Connor came closer to meet Angels' relieved gaze.

"Just lay back and look pretty...well as much as you can." Faith grinned. "We got some of the girls breaking up the Trove joint. Seems your blue girl was right about where it was."

Angel nodded distractedly and closed his eyes for a moment. When his burrow furrowed Connor tensed for what he knew was going to be a doozy of scene. Frowning at Faith the vampire looked about the room as far as he could. "Did you duct tape Spike? He's never been this quiet for so long. Well not unless he was unconscious and believe me it's always fun to wipe the smug expression off his face."

His body tense language belied his words though Illyria however did not realize this and was quick to agree with Angel. "Yes, the half breed makes the most pleasing noises and expressions when he is injured. It is most satisfying."

When Faith was about to comment on the demons' remark Angel chose that time to struggle to sit up. "Where is that little moron? If he thinks that--"

Connor saw the panic and fear in Angels' eyes but had no idea how to quell them. All he had ironically enough was what had been denied to him most of his life: the truth. "He's not here. Spike stayed behind to give us the chance to escape."

"He did WHAT?" Another coughing fit broke out and Faith used it to her advantage. She pressed him down against the cot giving him no room to fight back. Not that Angel could put up much of a fight in his weak condition for long. "You left him behind?"

"The white haired one said it was for the best. That it was what you would have done." Illyria answered in Connors' stead.

For a second he saw guilt on Angels' face then nothing as the expression closed off. The slayer was whispering promises of help but the vampire didn't seem to hear her. His mouth formed into a grim but determined line that worried Connor but Faith either didn't notice or chose not to make a big deal out of it. Angel absently thanked her for her help and asked to be left alone to sleep. Once she had left Connor was at his side again clasping his limp hand.

"How many days has it been?"

"Three, dad. Faith hasn't told us anything yet but I heard the other slayers talking through the vents this morning saying that he was sold." Connor replied preempting the question he knew was coming about Spikes' whereabouts. "They didn't know who bought him yet."

He didn't mention that many of the slayers didn't care what happened to the blond vampire. Apparently the only reason they were even helping was because Faith had asked them to do so. Many of them thought that Illyria and him were idiots for being "friends of monsters." It made him wonder how they would react to hearing that they were demons as well. According to Spike the slayers were part demon too and of course didn't see themselves that way. Figures.

"Once you find out we'll leaving, help or no help. I'm not about to lose Spi--another member of my team." Angel said glaring angrily at his surrounding.

Connor doubted his father would be listening to him anyway in his current mood but agreed all the same. In the distance he heard Faith curse as her cell went off and open it with a snap. Her temper soon came back as she told the person on the other end that they didn't make her choices. He didn't want to overhear but it was next to impossible to block out.

"This is part of who I am, alright? If you can't handle it then you can't handle me!" She sighed then adding softer, "I know baby and I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But I was on the other side too. You don't know what it's like...yeah. Yeah. I guess so. Whatever."

The cell snapped shut and Faiths' boots echoed heavily down the hallway. The young man felt that before this mission was over they all would be losing something or another. He was just afraid what the price would be for Angel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Saekaeru Kibishii:** Sorry about any double posting sometimes when I upload it the story gets warped in some way or another. It hadn't happened for awhile though. Thanks and sorry for the cliffy but I can't promise that future chapter will not end with them. Thank you for offering a challenge but at the moment I'm a bit overwhemled by challenges that I'm planning to write. This does look to be a long fic so I may take you up on that on a later date.

**Reptilian Goddess:** Thank you very much! To answer your questions: At the moment Dracula is set back by the attempts to overthrow him and it has already affected his plans for Spike some. (He wanted Spike to be kept in the dungeons but taking the prisoners forced him to move him.) Even if he is distracted he is going to do his best to make Spike pay for his own amusement. I always saw Spike as very social, he even hung out with the Scoobies because he wanted to talk with people. I never saw him as hating kids per se, he liked Dawn well enough, but Peter was trying his nerves at first. Spike needed someone to connect to and Peter distracted him from his current woes. He likes the kid and wants to see him happy. Dracula might have a little trouble with using the boy against him, the reason will be in the next chapter.

You had a question mark at Childe/Ex-lover so I guess your asking if Angel sees Spike in that light. I'd have to say no to both. I don't really write Spike as Angels' childe but that won't be mentioned much if at all if your a fan of that sort of thing. At this point Angel doesn't seem to be thinking of Spike as a lover, what he is thinking will be revealed in future chapters.

**Nika Dawson: **Thank you! And ask and you shall receive.

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Having her blood drained had weakened Faith more than she had liked. She knew that Angel needed more to heal but she was wiped out. He would have to feed on the pigs blood she had gotten for the next few days. None of the other slayers were offering themselves up for the cause, that was for sure. Faith was just grateful that they were willing to let her keep him with them. She wasn't willing to press her luck to ask more of them at the moment.

What she really needed was to unwind and be mellow for awhile. The other girls always had amusing stories and she wasn't ready to go to bed just yet. Not with the words of her latest argument still fresh in her mind. The rec room was filled to the brim with off-duty slayers playing pool, watching TV, and eating. Faith opted to stay with the girls that were dining so she wouldn't be asked to play the games. Sitting at the table were a couple of slayers that she knew from missions she had led and one of the french girls she had just met. For the life of her she could not remember her name. As usual at a meals gossip was going around about other slayers, and the hottest topic was Buffy Summers.

"I heard that she only dates freaks now," came a whisper from the blond, Carey.

"Is that true Faith?" The new girl Jane asked clearly shocked and unsettled by the idea.

Faith just shrugged, it was beyond pointless to keep informing the girls that she wasn't Buffys' keeper. They all just assumed that the two of them kept track of each others' love life. A few going as far as to claim that it was a type of private club that they weren't privy to whenever she said she didn't know. If Faith was in a better mood she would of laugh at the irony of it all. She never had been a part of anything let alone the Scoobies. No one could break into that tight knit crew with ease. It was mainly Xander, Willow, Buffy and Giles. Andrew and Dawn were the only "new" members anyone else was either a semi-friend, co-worker, ally or dated one of the group. Sure Buffy might feel lonely sometimes being the leader but she still had loyal friends. The girl seemed to dismiss them far too much in Faiths' eyes.

Still expecting an answer Jane looked at her waiting for Faith to respond. Rolling her eyes at the idiotic gossip the slayers were reduced to she complied. "Shit, I don''t know who B bounces with now. I ain't keeping tabs of her honeys. That's her business not mine." She looked pointedly at the others to bring home her statement. "It's not yours either so mind yours."

Grumbles followed but the girls themselves went back to eating their meals leaving Faith to get back to looking over what was being served. The choices weren't really the kind that she was looking for. She was damned if she knew what half of the french foods were and had been wary since the frog incident. When she was feeling brave enough Faith had tried a few of the items the others (non-French slayers) had enjoyed. It was pretty tasty but she figured her idea of good food wasn't much after the prison grub, or the English.

The gossip came back soon and she ignored most of it though she found interesting pieces that were entertaining. Willow and Kennedy were a hot topic, many believing the slayer was taking advantage of the witch. Kennedy certainly paraded the fact that she was dating a "goddess" to everyone she met. People were already taking bets on how long the relationship would last.

It made Faith wonder if people were making bets about Robin and her. They had been pretty hot and heavy at times. It was without a doubt the most mature relationship that she ever had been in. They talked things out, worked through problems together and for the most part had each others' back. She liked what they had but at times had feared the pressure of the commitment. Robin never pressed her though, he said that he understood that she had a lot on her plate. They had taken things slow on that front. He understood what she needed and gave her as much as he could

Faith tried to return the favor giving in when he wanted to go to certain events. It was fun, passionate, tender and mind blowing. Robin and her would have their shares of fights but they always managed to work things out for the better. Until now.

The souled vampires had always been a sore topic for Robin though it had never caused any fights between the pair. Faith had told him all about her past and Angels' involvement in it. He understood the vampires' importance in her life. Though he also knew about Angelus' involvement in Giles' lovers' death. Whenever the subject was breach Robin would be silent for the most part yet still support her choices.

_You want to visit Angel when he's on a solo mission? Do what you have to do just come back in one piece._ That was how it had been.

Until Giles had stepped in to inform them about Spike staying with team Angel. Robin was furious that the vampire was still around when others who had died that day had not returned. Faith had tried her best to reach him letting him know that she did understand his anger and pain. She did her part to let him know that she knew how hard it was for the vampires trying to redeem themselves as well. Reminding him that her victims had families too.

Like she once had said , redemption was a rocky path. True there were people who would claim that she and the souled vampires got off easy. These people didn't understand and never truly would. Buffy had showed support for her ex-boyfriends and had with Faith in the past but she knew that the other slayer would never really know. As a result there was a profound connection between the three that Buffy would couldn't be apart of.

Part of Faith, perhaps the selfish part, was glad of it. Sure it wasn't as glamorous as the exclusive Scoobies had been but it was something. It meant a lot to her to be able to share her pain, to not be alone with it. It was also one of the few areas where her senior slayer was excluded.

Robin just didn't get it not that she had blamed him. Being part of a couple with him had been an eye opener to Faith. It was a rare guy that wanted more from her than sex (not that it wasn't good) rarer still that he had still stuck around. That was what made this fight with Robin so painful, she didn't want to lose him but she knew that she couldn't back down from what she believed in. He saw her support of the vampires as her ignoring his slain mothers' death and his feelings about the matter. She felt that by giving her trouble about it he wasn't giving her support that she needed.

"––She is still pissy about it. Blaming me for her lost love when I saved her life!" One of the French girls'' exclaimed bring her back to the current gossip.

"What''s so great about dating a vamp? Sounds creepy to me, I mean come on, their dead people." Carey chimed in. Jane nodded her head in agreement wrinkling her nose at the idea. "I heard that Buffy fought him before, I wonder if she did him too."

"Did who?" Faith asked despite herself.

"Dracula,"Carey answered not looking the slightest bit impressed, "never was thrilled with those cheap B movies."

"He is just another vampire for us to slay." Agreed the french slayer. "My cousin was seeing him and stupidly agree to be one of his brides. I saved her and she promised never to speak to me again."

Faith frowned not recalling hearing about this bit of information before. Usually the new girls were quick to brag about fight old vampires, legends and new creatures. Just a week ago there had been a fight with werewolves in Chile that had been known throughout the slayers ranks within hours. Perhaps her disagreement with Robin had been distracting her more than she realized.

"When did it go down?"

"Just two or three days ago, right Judy?" Jane replied offering her friends her stash of health bars.

"That is correct." Judy answered while declining Janes' offer. "The Count was so full of himself, claiming that I could never kill him and that once my actions were known that I would be in trouble with the council."

Faith had risked taking a harmless looking chocolate bar, health food wasn't her thing but you never know. At least it was candy and she knew what it was. It seemed like a safe bet to her.

"Why would you be in trouble for doing your job?" Carey asked. "He's a vamp, you're a slayer hence you kill them. Unless you're Summers the vampire layer." She added the last part under her breath not seeing the glare she received from Faith in return.

"There were claims about his people working a treaty with the council," the girls all protested the idea loudly before Judy continued, "I did not believe him at the time of course. I reported this to Mr. Wells and he confused me when he asked me who the Count looked like. I do not know who Mr. Lee or these other men are."

Jane did not get the reference either but the others did. Faith rolled her eyes, count on Andrew to take a serious call and make it into movie trivia.

"I can not understand Mr. Wells ranting so I hung up and called Mr. Giles instead. He informed me that Dracula was correct about the treaty." Judy said gravely.

The response was quick as the once relaxing break room was transformed into tense atmosphere. It reminded Faith of a room of hissing cats ready to unleash their claws. A few years ago she would have been right there with them in their thinking that a vampire was nothing more than a monster for them to slay. She had thought the same when Xander had told her about Angel returning after she had heard about the Angelus incident. She had to get things back in order before it got out of hand and threatened the souled vampire upstairs.

"Hey calm down people, Giles is working on it. He'll settle things out, alright?" Reluctantly the slayers stilled and mumbled agreements to her statement. Something bothered her about the Dracula thing though, in their business these feelings were rarely wrong. "Judy, what happened after he told you about the treaty?"

"Nothing. He just broke things off with my cousin and left." She bit into her sandwich thoughtfully. "No wait, I believe he stated that I would not deter him from his trip to France. He claimed that he still had business to attend to before he left."

Faith had chosen that moment to bite into the chocolate bar. Fighting back the urge to gag on the flavorless candy she nodded and quickly made an excuse to leave. She didn't feel like talking to the Watchers but she knew that her feeling was correct. Spikes' life might depend on her finding out where the Count went on that day. It seemed highly unlikely to her that on the day that Angel, Spike and their friends had been in France that Dracula happened to be there as well. Calls were made, orders were given and Faith had to wait for the others to get results. She knew that she would be no use to anyone in her current state and retired get some much need rest.

_Soon Faith found herself in an elegant parlor facing a dusty stain glass window. The light bathed the room in a dully colored glow casting ominous shapes around her. Turning around she found another person had suddenly joined her in the previously empty space. Though he wore Spikes' clothes his hair was not it's usual slicked back bleached state. Honey brown curls framed his innocent looking face. A face that was completely devoid of attitude and appeared almost resigned._

_"You're quite late, it is proper to be on time. You almost missed the harvest and we can't have that." Spike informed her primly much like the way Wesley had acted in Sunnydale._

_"Sorry, couldn't decide what to wear." She stated standing to face him._

_"Come now, you always know what is decent and practical, Faith. No heels should be worn in combat." He rose as well and she noticed a old book he tightly gripped in his right hand. Pieces of paper overflowed barely contained in it's binding._

_"Keeping busy writing again?" She commented when he hugged the tome closer to his chest as if it was his lifeline to the world._

_"Always writing, you never stop after all. The only thing that is elusive is the ending, I fear this one might be a bit of a shocker." The book suddenly fell heavily from his grip crashing to the floor. "It is quite vexing to have it keep slipping from my fingers just when I'm settling in."_

_"I know what you mean, wish I could help more but I never was much of a writer." Faith shrugged and turned away to walk around the hallway. Spike followed pulling out various items from his pocket, either to switch to another pocket or to throw away. The only items she noted clearly was a pair of cracked glasses that he slipped back into his pocket._

_"Nor was I." Spike commented airily ignoring the dimly lit corridor in favor of something he held in his hand. The stain glass gradually fade as they passed the windows, colors scraped clean, glass cracking to reveal a dreary night. The stone walls were chipped and the carpet was threadbare seemingly unraveling with every step. The pair made their way into a courtyard with a large but very dead tree in the center. Faith wasn't sure why there was so much dirt on the cobble stones around the base either. It wasn't even the same dark color as the dirt surrounding the roots. It was a grayish tone, with a small knife laying in the pile. _

_"Oh look you didn't miss the harvest after all. Isn't it nice that they are prompt?" Spike voice called to her. Faith glanced back to find that the previously empty courtyard was covered in with bloody bodies. The vampire leaned against the tree not even bothering to gaze at the faceless bodies. The only noise that filled the air was a steady drip-drip sound that echoed loudly throughout the eerie silent night. Following it she found it was not issuing from the dead but from Spike. Pulling back his duster Faith saw a dark wet patch on the vampires' chest. Frowning he placed his hand to his breast to have it come back scarlet._

_"Ruined another shirt it seems." He commented with a shrug._

_"You have to do something about it." _

_"I can not do everything others have to do clean up too. Just try to put six before three otherwise you might find the ingredients will not be right."_

_Leaping up with a jolt Faith ran her hand over her sweaty face feeling as if she had just ran an all night patrol. "What the hell was that?"_


	8. Chapter 8

**Reptilian Goddesss: **I tend to rant so if I answer your questions don't mind me. :) I just want to make sure certain things are clear when I can't show everything in the story for some reason or another.

Thanks for your kind words, it was a fun chapter to write I really enjoy getting into Faiths' head. I always planned on getting back to the french slayer but it just took longer than I thought it would to link the stories. The bitchy slayers were like that for many reasons the main one being that two of them (not the French one) were characters I had in mind for another story that I might bring into this one. They see things in a different light than Buffy and Faith do. They don't understand why they should be nice to vampires when they have these powers to can kill them. Knowing that Buffy actually slept with two vampires doesn't give them a lot of respect for Buffy. Sort of a "you should practice what you preach" thing in their minds.

The dream will come into play, a big part comes up when I get back to the Angel/Connor/Illyria/Faith story. I will tell you that a large part of the dream has to deal with Spike and Faiths' characters. Some of it I had nothing set in stone for I just left open for the readers to decide much like real dreams not everyone sees a dream the same way another person does. If you didn't understand it then I guess I'm relieved because you're always worried that you're giving away too much too soon when you write scenes like that. I did try to make it like the dreams on BTVS and ATS.

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The search for the escaped prisoners had gone on fruitlessly until daybreak when the Count had to end his part in it. Ilie had been spirited away to be guarded with the rest of the servants as sending him back to his tribe had been forbidden until the followers of Mihai were found. Dracula had found the whole ordeal tiring and frustrating. All he wanted was to return to his chamber, perhaps to drink a glass of brandy and rest.

When he arrived he soon found that like all his other desires of late it was not to be. Sitting upon his bed was Elsa who unlike most of his brides would not take no as an answer even if she suffered for her rudeness. He knew that her appearance was because of concerns closer to the heart not material things though. The one thing that she cared about more than anything in the world (even him) was her family. Elsa had been very close to her family as a human and would not be separated from them even in death. To ensure her happiness he had granted her request to have her loved ones live with them in Romania.

For generations they worked within the castle keeping her line alive. Many had declined offers of immortality preferring to live out their lives as humans. Only five had accepted, three that had met a dusting ending while serving their master and protecting Elsa. The two surviving members were the ones she had turned herself, Hans and Jon. While the Count could not stand their slow minded nature he could not deny the results that their brutality sowed.

Madam Drake and her children were the only _living_ family Elsa had left and they had been harmed in his absence. Caught in the crossfire of rogue demons that did not accept that the humans were under Draculas' protection. She had been spewing her righteous fury since his return and with their own concerns about Mihai none of the other brides had intervened.

"I do not wish to discuss it at this hour, Elsa." He informed her undressing for bed. The woman acted as if he had not spoken having the nerve to advance on him.

"You have yet to hear me out early as you were busy with other affairs of state. You have not answered my question either. This is the only hour I can speak with you without interruption." Her voice rose at the last sentence bringing his attention to the new objects of her ire. At the doorways stood Marishka, Aleera, and Verona clearly waiting for the own more private audience with the Count. To tired from the days events to even consider the temptation in front of him, he dismissed the trio.

"Speak your mind and be gone then. I am in no humor to speak in circles."

"What do you intend to do about it?" She asked huffily.

In moments like these he questioned his wisdom when he fell for the beauty in front of him. Not that he had ever been wise in love, such a statement was laughable. No one truly in love could escape the fate of acting like a fool for their lovers. Still he had never found these acts of her anything but an annoyance at best. At worst she threatened to risk his wrath. Many times his other brides had to act on his behalf to set her on the right path. When she wasn't so demanding the two of them were inseparable and he would wonder how he could have ever think such things about her. Amused by his own musings he almost forgotten that Elsa was expecting a reply. Cupping her face bringing it closer he gently wiped away a tear that had escaped.

"I have promised to protect your family my Elsa, and I will. I will avenge their losses as well. I can not do either until this matter is solved or I will risk endangering us all. Do you understand my love?"

She nodded but her shoulders slumped in defeat. Elsa never could stay angry at him for long when he was like this and hated the small defeat. Placing a chaste kiss a upon her brow he pulled her securely into his arms.

"How does the search go?" She asked hopefully.

"Not well, although three of the escapees have been captured one has eluded us." Dracula confessed willing his anger not to show otherwise it would only encourage her foul mood further. "The most puzzling aspect of these rebels is the almost smug manner that they displayed when caught. We have yet to even find any evidence of their deeds that would explain this."

"That is frustrating, I can't say that I am not disappointed by this news." Elsa confessed glumly. "I've never seen such chaos and outright insanity within a land."

"Obviously you have never been to California." Dracula replied dryly.

"Please be serious."

"You know me well Elsa, you should know by now that none will escape me for long. I will make those who have harmed us suffer to the fullest extent. This I promise."

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Several hours later in different bedroom another vampire sat against the headboard staring at the far wall. The dreams had returned in full force and as usual Spike couldn't rest afterwards. Familiar desires came with them though they could not be satisfied tonight. Not that it mattered much as they never were completely fulfilled anyway.

Feeling the compulsion to do something now that he was awake Spike rose from the bed intent on finding a flaw in Draculas' homey prison. The doorway repelled him on numerous tries failing to show any weakness. The drawn windows still showed signs of daylight outside so that option was out for the time being. Every nook and cranny was tested for useful items to no avail, and in desperation the blond had even attempted to find secret passage ways.

"Is it too much to ask for one of those sodding novels to be right for once?" Spike asked out loud.

"I assume that you are referring to the mystery novels and not the home decorating ones." A soft voice called from the doorway.

A raven haired beauty with a dark complexion greeted him apparently amused at his attempted escape. Something about her knowing look reminded him faintly of Drusilla though her sanity made those comparisons fleeting at best. She appeared to be of gypsy decedent yet her scent was that of a vampire. He never heard of a gypsy that had wanted to be one of his kind before, had he? Something nagged at his memory but was too elusive to grab onto. Deciding to just go with the flow (not to mention to cover his embarrassment at being found with his head in the fireplace) he cleared his throat.

"Uh right, just checking to make sure..." Not certain what he could claim to be looking for he changed tact. "...Is there something you're looking for? Something that I could help you with maybe?"

Spike raised an eyebrow as his gaze drew over her form. He smirked when she turned back to the door, figuring he had upset one of Draculas' haughty brides. Instead she cast a come hither glance over her shoulder at him. Startled he took an involuntary step backwards.

"Perhaps there is at that though I feel that you are not ready yet."

With that said she left the chamber leaving no doubt that she expected him to follow. Having no better ideas Spike did so unable to have caution overrule his curiosity. He was able to pass the barrier though somehow he wasn't that shocked, not dwelling on the whys he followed the other. The dull hallways faded in midst of her enchanting presence, her dark hair swaying with every movement. When he was human he would have described such a sight as an image from a dream. Spikes' dreams though were not nearly as surreal as late so he felt that it ill suited this mysterious woman.

Spike did not believe he was under a thrall either as his past experiences had left him dizzy and fatigued. Nor could he say that it was akin to love, there was an attraction to be certain but the all consuming burning desires were not present. She was not a woman of light like he had seen in Buffy nor one wholly of darkness like his princess Drusilla. He felt that he knew her of old yet she was still an enigma.

_Don't be taken in by those who are quick to charm you. Not all use magic to get their ways, William. If they take an unnerving interest in you and seek you out it is only for their profit. Never yours. It's best to let them play their game out to see their hand before you can press your advantage._

Those were the sage words of Darla when the two of them had been split from Angelus and Drusilla. Darla had wanted to teach the younger vampire some hard learned lessons that she knew all too well. Granted that Spike had rarely used the advice given his urges and lack of patients but when he did things had always worked out to his advantage.

Given what he knew about gypsies and magic Spike was certain that he could not let himself be taken in by this woman. No matter what he had to stay focused and be in control. It was then that he realized that she had led them into a dark hallway lit by candles with large windows covered by heavy drapes. He had no idea where they were in the castle and although the designs seemed familiar enough he knew that they were a long way from his assigned room.

"That's far enough, luv," he felt proud that his voice hadn't betrayed his unease, "I'd like to know a few things 'fore we go any further."

She turned to face him but he could not see her expression as the shadows hid it from his view. "Such as?"

"A name for starters I reckon, you do have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You seem to know 'bout me so the way I see it the proper thing to do would be to have an introduction."

"Of course, forgive me. I was not certain if you would recall me."

"We've met?" Spike was uncertain, something was familiar about her but he doubted he could forget her if they had met her.

"In a manner of speaking no we have not." She stepped into the candlelight her dark eyes boring into his steadily. "You helped my love recover me when I was kidnapped."

The pieces finally snapped into place as Spike looked on the other vampire with this new insight. "You're the bird that was taken by the Nazis' that I helped that pounce save when I came for Darla. Just before that git backstabbed me!"

"Yes, that was me." She said completely ignoring his insults directed at his lover. "I am Anselina."

Before Spike could say another word Anselina was already on the move. She glided more than she walked towards him. Wary he stood perfectly still as she circled him giving the impression that she was measuring him up. Once she had come face to face with him again she stared deeply into his eyes. Wanting to look away in fear of some type of thrall but unwilling to show any weakness he stared back at her evenly. Satisfied with what she found she broke contact to take a seat on one of the benches against the stone wall.

Feeling slightly foolish Spike folded his arms waiting for the other vampire to make her move. He didn't have to wait long.

"I must say that the rumors concerning you have been very..." her mouth twisted slightly trying to figure the right word to use, "...conflicting. I confess that I am deeply intrigued with the tales."

"That right? Bit of a legend in these parts am I?" Spike smirked liking the idea of the Counts' people gossiping about him. The git must have been aggravated to have that much focus taken away from him and placed onto his rival. That had to have hurt the inflated ego of his.

"I suppose I owe Martha and Greta apologies for doubting their words." She went on as if he hadn't spoken looking at him intently. "I honestly did not think that men still dyed their hair that style since the eighty at least."

His mouth dropped in dismay before glaring at her. Not that the woman had the grace to be intimated, far from it she smiled at him serenely. "I personally believe you would be quite the catch if you let your hair return to it's natural state. You hide yourself far too much behind this appearance."

"Oi! Who are you to tell me how I should look? Not everyone can stay in the clothes they were turned in." Mumbling about nosy daft bints he slumped onto the bench further from her not interested enough to flirt with the woman any further. When she did not move for several moments he glared back at her sullenly.

"You are most entertaining William the Bloody but you misunderstand me. I did not mean to injure your pride, I tend to forget how fragile the male ego is from time to time." Anselina smiled winningly causing Spike to snort. "I just can not understand how you can hide such beauty."

Spike tried to cover his shy smile unused to such rare flattery.

"I believe you said that you wanted to know "a few things", yes? What else is on your mind?"

"Huh? Oh, right." Shaking off the lingering traces of his poet self he brought back his mask of boredom. "Just where were you planning on taking me just now?"

Anselina ignored the leer and motioned to the far left to a door down the corridor. "To your next chore, the guards are...detained at the moment and I volunteered to accompany you."

Not letting on that he noticed her slip about the guards, or that she felt confident enough to watch him alone he smirked back at her. "I take it that this is going to be an interesting task, eh?"

"I suppose you could say that." Anselina smiled secretly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Reptilian Goddess:** I try to be careful about letting things slip too early. Not to mention that I usually get new ideas. I will say that Faith will be playing a bigger part than she use to, originally she was just a cameo. ;) Thank you, I really enjoyed writing the dream, you'll see more of it when we get back to the others and maaayebe some of the hints are popping up in the Spike chapters. ;) Anselina knows men, or at least sees a familiar thread that Drac and Spike share. As for the task, well you may have to wait for that one...

**Merenwen:** Faith has grown up a lot and has become a great slayer/leader. I think given some time away from Buffy would make her more confidant. While she doesn't have all the answers yet she is working on it. You will be seeing more of Elsa and Anselina but the other brides won't have a big role in the story.

**TanyaPotter:** It really depends on a lot of things if I can get chapters up fast. To answer your response to William Restored: don't feel too bad for Spike, Angel has issues too. Spike will have something else to deal with soon that has nothing to do with Angel.

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It was funny how one instant would forever change things for both William the Bloody and the self proclaimed lord of the vampires. It was a situation out of both of their control that neither had anticipated. Spike had been pondering his companion, the strange Anselina, when the blood curdling screams echoed down the hall. The pair reacted without thinking heading towards the disturbance, an act Spike would blame on his soul when he could have used the moment to escape. Instead they found the source of the racked only to be frozen in place by the sight that greeted them.

Bodies of dead guards littered the carpet, limbs twisted into unnatural ways and faces with blank sightless eyes staring out at nothing. Fine pieces of art lay in ruin covered with the same arcs of blood that were sprayed over the walls. Spike could still hear the heartbeats of the living most caught in a frantic pace calling out to both the demon and man in him with their urgency. In the middle of the onslaught was a vampire clutching sobbing woman in her grasp. If not for the cheesy bracelet that Spike recognized he would never have guess that this haggard looking woman was Madam Drake.

The formerly haughty housekeeper was hysterical sobbing and screaming out nonsense in different tongues that he didn't even try to piece together. All he took note of was where she was staring at when she cried and it was enough to snap Spike into action. Peter was out cold on the floor in a odd looking heap but still alive if his hearing was correct.

"Now now, didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?" Spike quipped catching the vampire off guard as he landed a sharp hit to it's face with a loud snap only to feel a stab of pain shoot through his system. The impacted threw the creature back enough to release Madam Drake who instantly fell towards her child ignoring all else. He had just returned his lightheaded gaze to his foe when he was throw almost causally against the stone wall and then lifted before he could recover. Smacking into the floor face first didn't help his dizziness much.

"Lord Miahi will not suffer the old ways that have plagued our lands! All must be cleansed before the new reign!" The rogue demon screamed as it tore through the area like a bull in a china shop.

Catching a glimpse at Anselina he knew that she wouldn't be much help in their situation. Her previously inscrutable face now showed shock as she watched the scene apparently too stunned to move. It was this reaction that ended up costing her previously flawless face to be ruined as the attacker chose that instant to brutalize her. A lip split, and a unknown bone snapped as the gypsy bride of the vampire lord was tossed perilously close to an already broken window.

The slowly building agony in Spikes' body was starting to overwhelm his sense at that point. He didn't understand why this was as he had hardly been hit to the degree that would merit this type of pain. The familiarity of the situation came back to him even as he went after the vampire trying to ignore the increasing pain that came with his offensive moves. Memories of his throbbing headaches when he was violent towards humans–his chipped days–came back with a vengeance as he fought back. With a horrible realization Spike saw the silver bands that he had been cuffed with glow as they heated up.

The Count had chipped him once again, where technology had been restricted magic expanded upon. It had been the Count Crapula that had stabbed him in the back to be sold off for a vampire experiment in the first place now it seemed that the old boy was using that to his advantage. If he had not been in the midst of discovering this new anguish he would have laughed at the irony.

It gave new definition to the term tortuous but Spike couldn't allow himself to stop his attacks in fear of the lives of those still living. Peter was just a kid, he didn't deserve this kind of life. He should be running outside playing in the sun with his mates not hiding in the dark with the monsters that went bump in the night. The lad had already seen and been harmed more than someone of his tender age should have been. Spike wouldn't let this harpy take anymore from Peter. Not the boys' life, not his mother nor anymore of his innocence. Yeah the kid might be part of Dracs' merry band but that didn't matter to Spike at the moment.

His sight began to blur, his limbs were heavy and his punches were less on target but Spike still fought on. He made his opponent feel his pain lashing out even as the burning sensation turned into a new type of blaze.

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Irritation and fury coursed through Draculas' body poisoning his temper making the lord impatient even with his own men. The answers were becoming harder and harder to come by despite their best efforts. It was unacceptable to have his own household overruled by an outside force that was terrorizing those he protected.

It is a direct insult to me--this "Lord Miahi" seeks to ruin my reputation. If he manages to belittle me in the process all the better for his cause.

The familiar hunt was in full swing making the predator within howl for his bloodlust to be sated by this elusive prey. His senses were almost overloaded by the bizarre scents and powers mixing in the air. It was a powerful amalgam of the primal nature of ancient beasts and the magic derived from the potent gypsy clan.

Paying no mind to the sentinels that attempted to flank him the Count followed the sounds of a not so distant battle. Brushing off the concerns of the men he reminded them who was in charge. Once he was certain that no arguing would be brooked (even know he knew that his men were smarter than to challenge him by now) Dracula went on alone to deal with the disturbance himself.

_What was the old saying about not trusting others to do your work?_ He pondered. It mattered not anyway for his ego had taken a serious beating and was in need of some self assurance. _Just a little of course_, he reasoned, _it has been very trying as of late.  
_  
It had been much easier in the old days when he could inspire more fear and respect with so much as a sneer. Count Dracula was once a name that by merely mentioning inspired terror. He could kill his men when they failed at a whim. (This had especially had his butlers on their toes to the point that they never forgot his favored wine again.) Now? He had to have patience with his minions because good help really was so much harder to come by these days. And he truly was tired of having antique rugs ruined by the bloodstains (which the new staff were hopeless at cleaning.)

Hollywood had been on his list of mortal and immortal enemies for some time. After the last Van Helsing movie they had earned themselves several more black marks. Dracula refused to even think upon the other media and products that parodied him. (The chocolate cereal product in particular never ceased to make him shudder.)

Dealing with a new upstart as well as Spike was already taking it's toll on him to the point where he barely took pleasure in any of the delights he usually partook in. Perhaps I should make more of an effort to personally deal with Spike once this brazen vandal is dealt with. If nothing else it was sure to uplift his faded spirits as the suffering of his enemies tended to do.

As if his thoughts had been made into reality the Count suddenly found himself facing an injured Spike fighting some unknown aggressor. Bodies of dead guards littered the hallway, Madam Drake in a hysterical state he had never seen her in before clutching at an unmoving Peter. Beyond them laying in a unresponsive heap to was Anselina though why she was there in the first place he could not say. Nor for that matter why Spike his prisoner was out and about.

Just when Dracula was about to bring his attention back to the fight before him he noted something amiss. Someone he knew for a fact did not work at his manor nor was currently one of his prisoners. A short round man with his limps broken at odd angles with a disconcerting grin on his wide face. A familiar victorious smile much like the one of his vampire foe in the courtyard had before he staked himself.

If this is who we were searching for than who is– Frowning Dracula turning shocked eyes to the display before him trying to deny it with every fiber of his being. It can not be...The image did not change despite his wishes and his heart filled with a deep ache. "Elsa," he called out but the figure did not heed his call.

Somehow Elsa, one of his beloved brides had betrayed him and now was fighting Spike. But how? Why? It made no sense to him, Elsa had enjoyed her role and wanted his protection for her family. Another glance revealed to him the fear that Madam Drake had for Elsa now. Did she harm her own flesh and blood? To say that the dark lord was confused was an understatement.

_Spike. This surely must be his doing._ Once his gaze fell on the younger vampire however Dracula was stunned at what he saw. Even though the bands of binding, forged by Magda herself, were burning him for daring to harm those of Draculas' house Spike fought on. That was NOT by any means a small feat. Dracula recalled all too well how those bands had been described all those years ago:

_No creature that wears these will be able to lift a finger on any under your protection without feeling the full wrath of my spell nor let the wearer step foot outside the boundaries you set. Pain wreaks the body making the mind unable to form thought beyond the agony. Only someone with an incredible will can be able to withstand the torture for long._ It was one of her strongest spells that never failed before. Knowing her powers as well as he did Dracula did not believe for a second that the bands were faulty.

Not noticing his new audience Spike threw himself into the fight throwing Elsa off-balance away from the humans he was obviously protecting. The anguish of the spell was etched on Spikes' face the stress of it beginning to take it's toll making the vampire waver for a moment. For the first time since they met Dracula felt amazed by the other vampire. Such tenaciousness was hard to find, and seeing it in a souled being was not something he had expected. Wasn't a soul suppose to make a vampire less than he was? Such contradictions...it was fascinating.

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Spike couldn't see what was happening, not clearly anyway. His vision was blurred making the strange shapes around him sway about. Not that his body was helping him out much either as his legs had given out on him and his arms felt like lead. The banshee was still hollering about but her rage seemed to turn to another. The dark figure she approached seemed ready for her though and dropped the unsuspecting woman with one punch.

"Yeah, well I softened her up for you." Spike muttered. The dark shadow appeared to sharply turn towards him. The staring felt much longer than it should have. Maybe to size him up for something either way it made Spike feel cranky. "Take a sodding picture git to make it last longer and move on. There are people bleeding to death, not that a self-righteous prat like you would care, right?"

The shape called out for the guards proving Spikes' hunch on the identity was correct. _Stupid pounce, all high, mighty and twelve feet tall. Thinks he's so great just 'cuz he can stretch his arms 'cross the room._ He squinted--_bugger_--and promptly passed out.

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"Elsa, what am I to do with you?" Her unmoving form offered no answers not that he was surprised, still he had hoped...

"Master, what are we to do with her?" The human asked steadily even though his right hand twitched towards the wooden stake sheathed in his belt. Dracula was tempted himself to respond in kind to the threat to one of his family but he sensed the wisdom of the gesture.

"It is too soon to decide and I do not wish to make a hasty choice. We have to know if this can be undone. I will have to have an audience with the elder." It would be tricky to discover her whereabouts as her people had moved her to safety from the rebel forces. If anyone would know it would be llie. Madam Drake and her son were being taken care of, bodies were being moved yet Draculas' gaze fell on the blenched blonde menace.

"Sir, what would you have done with--"

"Just put him in some out of the way place where he can be kept busy." The Count waved the comment off imperiously.

"I meant--uh what about Mistress Anselina?"

Caught momentary off-guard his attention snapped back to his other bride who he had completely forgotten about. Feeling annoyed at having this human remind him of his lover he curtly ordered him to get to work stating that he would take care of her. Anselina indeed had much to explain.

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"You disappoint me Anselina, I expected far more from you." From his seat behind his desk Dracula narrowed his eyes at his usually responsible and obedient lover. Unlike the others Anselina rarely questioned his motives. It was not to say that she was not willful in her own way she was just more respectful than most. At least she used to be but on a day likes this nothing was as it appeared. "You have taken a prisoner from his confinement without permission and without security measures. You did this at the height of a crisis when we had in the castle looking for the rebels and you did not just take any prisoner. You took Spike--William the Bloody--the my ever lasting bane and set him loose!"

Dracula stared at the woman before him who calmly regarded him yet made no move to protest his charges. "Have you nothing to say in your defense?" He asked incredulously.

"Only that I did what was willed of me, my lord. I have been taught to trust my instincts and the order as the elder is teaching me. All pointed to Spike and I feel that he was suppose to be present in the hallway today. I believe that he may be the one that we have been waiting for."


	10. Chapter 10

**Reptilian Goddess:** Damn Drac? Whatever for? Looks around innocently. Stay turned to see more..."fascinating" developments. ;) Glad you like that line it was one of my favorite to write in that chapter though writing Spike is always a blast too. You'll see some of what she means in this chapter along with what happened to Peter.

**Lady Kate:** I try not to make it so the readers have to have read the Spike vs. Dracula series. I'll mention parts but it's really not needed. I'm glad that you enjoy it though. Thank you, it has been fun to introduce different plots (I have a few new ideas too) and I playing with the characters has been a lot of fun. Illyria loves he threats almost as much as she likes carrying them out. ;)

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""Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything."" - **Napoleon Hill **

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There was a pregnant pause once Anselina announced her theory followed by a humorless laugh. Dracula drank deeply from his evening meal needing the strength to get him through what was surely to be a trying ordeal. He vaguely thought on the less protein todays' volunteer had than yesterday before finishing it with little ceremony. After their confinement was no longer an issue he would relish the hunt again. Being cooped up was no way for creatures like them to live.

"I must admit that I am greatly amused by this concept of yours. Please enlighten me and explain how such a thing as Spike being someone who we would wait for could happen." He sat back looking for all the world as if he were about to witness a grand performance.

"I have read the cards over and over again with the same results and I have had a series of dreams that involved Spike." She chose not to comment on the odd glance her lover gave her. "A great change is coming and no one in these lands will be untouched by it. The signs all point to the disaster foretold, we already have two opposing sides warring for the peoples' support. You my lord and this Miahi."

"If memory serves correctly I recall how this tale goes but I assure you that if Spike was this "balanced warrior"--which the title alone assures me he is not--he would have to pick a side. I can not fathom a situation that would have him choose our cause over Miahi."

He frowned at the idea even more agitated at the concept than he would have liked. Surely it must have been because of the likelihood of it. Spike did have a way of twisting events to suit his needs.

"You have joined forces once before my love." Anselina gently reminded him. "I dare say that it is not a completely impossible occurrence."

A suspicious snort like noise greeted her statement. No, he would not bother to correct her. He knew that Spike would never aid him again, debating it was pointless. "I must remind you that you are still a novice at these powers and proper understanding of the signs is needed in this endeavor."

If Anselina found him condescending she didn't show it. Instead she smiled fainting and nodded her head at his statement giving the impression that she saw wisdom in his words.

"True, one could be gravely mistaken in the mystic arts. Even practicing decades can not make all experts in it's ways." Her eyes danced with humor as she subtly reminded him that she had been training in magic for many years herself.

It was the way of Anselina that while she was agreeable with Dracula she was also able to point out things he may of over looked without provoking his ire. She did it without malice in such a way that he could listen to her council without appearing to lose face. It was one of the many reasons that he loved her so dearly.

"Agreed," he smiled tenderly at her clasping her hand, "Very well, for now I will hear you out. Tell me Anselina, why do you believe that..." Draculas' face turned sour, "...HE is the one?"

"I admit that I can not be certain that Spike is but he does play a role in the future. The cards do not lie." She paused to consider how to phrase the next part. "Despite his past brushes with you Spike has showed many admirable traits. He could have used the disturbance to escape but chose to stay and assist the humans." She could tell by his face that Dracula was clearly unmoved by her observation.

"Spike could not escape with the barrier in place." He stated pompously.

"He does not know about the barrier yet nor did he know about the full effect of the bands." Anselina pointed out.

"So he is a fool, this I already knew!" Dracula exclaimed finally letting his frustration take more physical form of pacing.

"Spike still fought on though, even with the magic of Magda working against him." That stopped him in his tracks but she felt no need to gloat as he could turn the tables on her again if she was not careful. He was a stubborn man that needed guidance though he would never admit as much. Using his affection and respect for Magda and her power had made a strong point. One that she knew that her lover could not refute. "That in my humble opinion my lord is most impressive."

Still not facing her or denying her claims Anselina took it as her cue to continue. "The warrior is said to be a being that has been caught between darkness and light. Demon and human. One who is renewed and works to protect the innocent. Spike has a soul that he claims to have earned unlike Angelus. He by no means has powers like yours, Master, yet he was allowed to return to the world of flesh and blood."

Now facing her with great interest, his dark eyes bored into her to find the conviction she had in what she said. Unconsciously stroking his chin Draculas' eyes glazed over and Anselina felt a familiar chill over take her. Suddenly a malicious smile broke out on his pale face and when his piecing gaze met hers.

"I am not convinced yet...I will know soon, this I promise you. I intend to investigate this matter further."

She suddenly felt very sorry for Spike.  
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The next few days were ruthless for Spike, he still ached bones deep from his bands yet he had to carry on with his "chores" for the giant git. His workload was so heavy that he barely made it to bed before collapsing. The only relief he had was that Peter was alright. The boy was currently favoring one leg but he would recover. At any rate he kept Spike company in the stable and listened to his tales. Eyes sparking with joy at the great stories of "The dank dens of donut boy" Peter would silently laugh to the point of tears at the images Spike created. He figured the voices he provided might have helped too.

No one ever bothered them when they were together, a fact that worried Spike to no end. Not even the boys' mum did anything and she still was uneasy around him even after he saved her life. It didn't add up to Spike though. If Peter was told to spy on him it wasn't like there was anything of value to tell. He had made sure that all his stories were kid friendly and never told much about the people they were about. Still he couldn't shake the feelings of unease he had sometimes when he felt as if he was being watched. Not that he ever saw anything when he checked.

Apollo, a stallion had strangely enough become his favorite horse in the stable. It never acted up and was quite affectionate. Hades was a biter, Hera was a bit of a kicker but none of them was as bad as the unnamed stallion that Peter refused to go near. Spike didn't blame the lad one bit, he didn't much care for the creature himself. No matter how careful he was it was never an easy task to sooth it. He vaguely wondered what the arrogant Count would name the beast with Hades taken. Seemed that the old boy had a bit of the taste for the Greek classics.

After the stables Spike would get to feed, not that he looked forward to it much. Everyday was a different type of animal blood to drink. First it was the god awful chicken, then the usual pig and today was cows' blood. Grimacing from the taste he would be escorted to his next duties. Those duties varied each day but one thing that never changed was the presence Mr. pale and unpleasant. Okay so he had to leave to attend to these "more worthier means of my time" yet he always came back to torment Spike. Dracula insulted him at every turn and ordered him about like his own personal slave boy.

Apparently with his own staff "busy" the clean up from the rampage was left to Spike. Getting out dried blood from rugs was never his expertise in the first place (much to Darlas' distress) but fixing windows? That was more of the whelps' thing. Whenever Spike refused threats were made and pain was given through the power of the bands.

"Are you truly incapable to learning from your lessons, Spike? They obey my commands and do my bidding as you will." The elder vampire smiled condescendingly down at him and Spikes' thin shred of self-control snapped.

"I don't "obey" anyone and I ain't about to start being the slave of a pillock that even a puppet show can't respect. Your pasty arse makes it so a vamp can't even be taken seriously these days. I wonder why that is?" Spike asked appearing to strain over his own question before brightening with false cheer. "Oh right, 'cuz you're a wanker who let the cat out of the bleeding bag about how to kill our lot and are a sodding drama queen--emphasize on the queen mind–-who is a walking cliched relic--"

The answering punch cut his speech off abruptly. Spike's jaw throbbed, his ears rang with the impact but he was just pleased that this time he remained conscious. It would be down right humiliating if he kept getting knocked out every time he got in a fight with the pounce. Spike expected there to be many more brawls (maybe a little one sided) in the coming days. Ignoring his discomfort he positively beamed at the fuming Count.

"You try my patience Spike. Your ceaseless chatter ends now or you will feel my wrath for each insult you spew, boy." Looming over the younger vampire his black eyes narrowed in contempt, lips turned into silent snarl, Dracula didn't exactly look like he did on the covers of those trashy novels Harmony read. Even his formerly flawless flowing hair was in disarray.

"Hit a little close to the mark, did I?" Spike answered smugly not bothering to address the threat. "Oh and another thing mate," he glared resentfully up at the other as he rose to his feet. 'M not your boy."

"You're whatever I say you are," there was a delicious pause before the Count added, "boy." The resulting scuffle wasn't much of a shock, nor the pain that followed it. Each day was the same in that regard where the two fought for control. Dracula would demand respect and obedience only to be denied. Spike on the other hand refused to be treated like trash and verbally (sometimes physically) lashed out. He never backed down from his captor on any occasion a fact that infuriated and intrigued Dracula to no end.

Spike could tell that his defiance was not something that Dracula was used to dealing with though he tried to, in his own manner. The fading bruises on his body as a testament to that. Still he was moved onto his other jobs to work for his survival. He would not be fed, or allowed to come in to rest inside when the sun rose if he did not. Staying in the castle made Spike remember why he hated the old days (besides the killings that is.) There was hardly anything from the modern day world present (a fact that he taunted Dracula with mercilessly) which meant more chores.

Bath water had to be brought in by servants for the lord of the manor and his ladies. Spike had to bring in his own water to bathe in and use the few items he was given to clean up with. There was little to enjoy with what would normally be one of the few relaxing treats to be had in the godforsaken land. It was like some conspiracy against him where when ever he chose to get his water heated up there was a line downstairs for others to do the same. Spike had attempted to do so in his own room in the fireplace but whatever spells were in place refused to let a fire stay for long enough to heat water. Frustrated with the whole process he ended up bathing in cold water never lingering longer than was strictly needed.

His muscles protested from the strains of his work and the beating didn't find much relief in the cold. The one true luxury he was given had been the bedroom where he could find comfort in a novel or in sleeping in the enormous bed. Dreams varied from the recurring one to torments from the past and present. Screams from those he slaughtered would wake him in a sweaty panicked state that would take a couple hours to calm down from. The recurring one as usual would leave Spike wondering the meaning of it.

It was a dream he had ever since he was flesh and blood again. It was full of light, flames and ashes. Spike was never certain whether it was suppose to be salvation or damnation. Was it his last day in Sunnydale that he dreamed about? Or was it when he was being dragged into hell? His opinion changed with his moods and he would find himself distracted staring at the elusive lights, sunlight, fire and once at the moonlight. It felt silly to talk about so he never had.

Loneliness was not something that Spike did well, hanging out with the Scoobies had proved that. Luckily Peter had helped give him some real company but inside his chamber he felt it acutely.

With no TV, magazines, computers, etc., Spike felt bored out of his mind when he wasn't doing grueling labors. The biggest insult however came when Dracula upon inspecting his prisoner pulled back in alarm. "Such a stench came from you, Spike? I can not feign shock but I can not allow this to continue." With a cock of his fingers a maid trying to watch the proceeding unobserved blushed at being noticed. She swiftly moved forward bowing respectful to her master.

"Yes, my lord?" She asked meekly.

"While it has been greatly entertaining to witness Spike urchin-like state I can not abide it to be seen in my manor any further. Have these rags taken away and replaced with something more fitting." Meeting the outraged blue eyes evenly Dracula watched as Hans and Jon quickly intervened with an victorious smirk. He did not listen to a single threat that was thrown his way only the body language of the furious souled vampire.


	11. Chapter 11

**Tanya Potter:** lol, it's funny how things like that work out. I try to update as soon as I can.

**Lady Kate:** as soon as I saw that cereal I just had this idea how Dracula would react to it. Glad you liked it.

**Reptilian Goddess:** I've known people who were silent when they laugh. You don't need to make a sound but doing it still winds you if you laugh hard enough. Dracula names his horses when he feels that they suit the names of the people/gods he names them after. Though based on the fact the stallion has been giving Spike a hard time I think he would view it in a more amused light. You will be seeing more of the Spike/Dracula rants/snark in this chapter. Don't worry I haven't forgotten about Angels' Avengers. There are just a few things that I need to have happen in this plot before I can get back to theirs. You will see them next chapter though.

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It was a down right humiliating experience, which he supposed was the entire point but it was a step too far. Thrashing in the midst of the guards Spike had held them off for awhile until Hans and Jon arrived. They had managed to drag him back to his chambers to strip him of his clothes but not without a fight. He did a fair amount of damage to one of the large vampire goons damn near dusting him when they tried to take his kit from the room. All Spike could do at the end was watch as his beloved duster and the rest of his apparel was taken away by a maid while he stayed hunched over on the floor starkers.

Spike briefly thought on his time in Sunnydale towards the end when he accepted his duster again. It was more than a trophy of the dead slayer now, it was his image, a symbol of his new mission he had taken. Without it he felt a bit like Samson after his hair was cut by his traitor of a lover. A William like impulse came over him to cover his nudity but he fought it not wanting to lose anymore dignity in front of these people.

His "new" wardrobe was not surprisingly rather dated, though it was the style that Spike would have worn in the old days. Nothing overly frilly but rather clothes worn for heavy labor.

Still unwilling to make things easy Spike refused to obey their commands to dress to the point where they were forced to hold him down to pull the clothing on. The material was itchy, much more so than Spike recalled and he just knew that it would make working in them a real bitch.

_You're going to pay for this you miserable bastard_, he silently vowed.

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_Journal of Dracula,_

I have outlived many supposed "legends" be they vampires, demons, slayers or mere humans. As such I have more experience than most of those beings that still linger on this decaying twilight of a world. Needless to say that I do not surprise easily, yet I find myself constantly caught off-guard by Spike, a being who is but a child in his years compared to myself! How is it that he always manages to gain the upper hand?

I had never thought much of Spike, a fact that I have never hidden, yet his current actions have disturbed my view of him. A simpleton that I have believed whole heartily survived through luck has show such willpower that I am forced to reexamine my opinion. There is much I do not know of his life and once Victor has returned I will have a fuller picture. For now I take great pleasure in finally making the once proud William the Bloody scrub my floors. His suffering is a much desired distraction from the daily difficulties in these lands.

Perhaps I am too distracted (as my brides have often complained me) with my foul mouthed prisoner. I find my curiosity of him heightened due to his resistance to the magic of Magda. I must know what other secrets he hides, what strengths he has that I have overlooked, and what weaknesses I can exploit. When I am not concentrating on the rebels I find myself seeking him out.

I suppose it is somewhat childish in hindsight the measures I have taken against him. Still it is a rare form of entertainment in these dreary days. Never in my long years have I witnessed such emotion from a being. The raw anger, an extreme form of passion that he displays on each of our visits. Weariness can not take the fire from those eyes, not even the beatings he receives.

Though I have seen evidence of Spikes' strong passions in the past I had not counted on them to be more than the affect of youth that would quick burn out in the ambers of time. He is stubborn to a fault and will hardly give an inch. One would drive themselves insane trying to get him to see reason!

Spike has a weakness that I confess I share for protecting those he favors. His loyalty to Darla and Drusilla survived throughout the decades where even when they were apart he would rush off to save them if they were threatened. He has shown similar behavior to this "Fred" woman, his friends that he allowed to escape though it cost him his freedom in the Trove and now Peter. The last I can not use against Spike. The boy is under my protection as gave my word to Elsa that I would always look after her family. I do not go back on my word.

Peter has however provided an opportunity to view Spike with his defenses down. As such, to my lovers displeasure, I have taken this opening to follow the pair about. Watching unseen from a branch I can see and hear them interact unaware of my presence. Who would expect a bat? Spike it seems can sense something is amiss as he tenses and constantly glances over his shoulder in my direction. Not that he ever finds me.

Regardless of his alertness Spike still relaxes with the child weaving tales for the benefit of the boy. I have come to suspect that a few of these stories are based on the slayer, Buffy Summers and her band of misfits. The tiresome antics of one of the characters does appear to be my former man servant, a strange young man with a misplaced sense of humor. He did not have a strong will and made it quite easy to bend his senses to mine.

Throughout these meetings Peter is more content than I have seen since his father died last spring. Elsa had often complained of the boys' listlessness and wanted to take measures to ensure his happiness. All my attempts on her behalf have failed and yet Spike has succeeded? How can this be?

All my time watching Spike has made me more determined to find his secrets as I ponder this mystery. I have taken his punishments further by taking away his dreadful clothes and replacing them with more humble attire.  
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Dracula was in a good mood when he summoned Spike to his next task. His eyes gleamed in triumph when he saw the other wearing the new clothes. They were more old fashion that the threads Spike seemed to favor but served the purpose for being durable in the work place. They were a mixture of earth toned browns rather than the blacks the younger vampire seemed to prefer. A strong pair of leather boots and the flowing wool coat though seemed a little too familiar though, perhaps he would take those away.

Overall the garb did look like the type Spike had worn when they had first met. The only thing that truly threw that illusion off was the slicked back blenched hair. Dracula frowned wondering where he had gotten anything to slick his hair back with.

"I am delighted to see that you have been rid of your filthy tattered garb, at least that much has been made decent. Yet there is still much to be desired." He commented causally noting the return of the fire that sparked in those blue eyes of his foe.

"Right, 'cuz you're the big strapping man that knows all about style don't you mate?" Spike glanced around at the hallway with a snort. "Have the huge ceilings, great big hunks of furniture, huge paintings, mainly of your pasty self 'course. Seems like your trying to make up for some short comings, don't it?"

Resisting the urge to slap him down like the brat he was Dracula gestured to the doors to Spikes' next chores instead.

"Huh, big honkin' doors? What a bleeding shock."

Throwing the doors open the Count walked inside and waited for the other to trail him. A curse behind him reminded him once again that he would have to call for Spike. A strange side effect from all the spells was that inside the castle he would have to invite the vampire in and out of each room. Some of the staff also had trouble moving about without the leave of their master. He was not sure if this was because they belonged to him (as Spike now did) or not. Outside there hadn't been much of a problem. At least none that he had heard about. At first he found it quite diverting but the humor in it had long since worn off.

"Enter freely and of your own will." The Count said automatically.

"S'not like I got much of a sodding choice poof, so much for the "of your own will" statement." Spike answered sullenly walking up to his rival.

"Today you will be cleaning up the library. It will likely take you days to complete, more so if you inevitably do not do it well." Dracula stated completely disregarding what Spike had said. "What you need is provided on the table where you will be re-shelving the books in the order."

There was a pause where Spike stared wide eyed at the enormous library with a seemly endless piles of books. When he met Dracula in the eye the flames of defiance were stroked. He found himself wanting to see Spike riled up more and more. What would happen when that intensity was built up higher? Would it burn him? Dracula discovered that he couldn't help but play with the fire.

"That is...you do know how to read, do you not? Or was I assuming too much?"

Anger bubbled to the surface momentary before Spike regained his thin shred of composure. Much to the elder vampires irritation he got to work without his usual snark. It was almost...disappointing. A half an hour pasted in silence as Spike sorted through a pile of the tomes. Not wanting to deter the progress or alert his keen interest Dracula did not interrupt.

Skimming through much adored favorite novel he tried to focus on it and not his foe. It was an impossible task as Spike was a very animated figure that refused to stay still for more than a few seconds. At one point the crash from one of the piles and the smirk that accompanied it gave him a fleeting impression that he was the one being tested.

Refusing to raise to the bait Dracula merely raised an eyebrow and went back to his pretend reading. That was when the humming had started. He had no idea what the tune was though he guessed that it had to be modern "music" from the way Spike bopped his head. Pursing his lips he said nothing as the swaying figure rocked back and forth. He was the model of patience, calm and at peace in a world of chaos. He was–

"How many ways to get what you want," Spike sang out destroying the fragile peace Dracula was constructing, "I use the best--I use the rest--I use the enemy!"

Even more annoying that the song was the bothersome fact that Spike wasn't truly that bad a singer. The Count vaguely wondered how his voice would sound singing actual music and not the noise he was belted out at the moment.

"I use Anarchy!"

_Of that I have no doubt_, Dracula thought darkly.

"If you are quite done making a fool of yourself, " he asked at his wits' end, "could you be more organized with your assignment?"

Looking over at the neatly organized shelves Spike gave him a look that clearly said "you're a draft wanker, aren't you?"

"I lived with a bleeding librarian! The most anal pillock who ever graced the Oprah book club and showed us how big a mistake wearing tweed truly was--as if we didn't already know--but a librarian nonetheless! So don't tell me that I don't know sodding well where to put the bloody books or I'll shove them right up you smug arse you--"

"Master, I have..." Madam Drake doesn't mean to but she can't help staring at the two men glaring so furiously at each other only a foot apart. Spike gripping the old tome in his hand with such force that she is half expected it to crumb in his hand.

"Go on." Her Master said never looking away from the other vampire.

"I'm sorry to intrude Master I didn't realize you were...I just wanted to let you know that Victor has arrived. He was injured on his way here. Do you wish to speak with him?"

Still gazing harshly at Spike he does not give his answer right away. It's uncomfortable for the blond and even though he frowns at the attention he does not back off. Seeing what he needed Dracula tells Madam Drake to take care of Victor and that he will visit him later. For now he has other matters to attend to that need his attention more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Tanya Potter**: Spike has a way of making the best out of hard situations doesn't he? Well at least making it amusing for himself. I hope you like some of the later chapters because those are the ones with, umm...more_ tension_.

**Reptilian Goddess:** You think so? Hmm, we'll see. Yes I'm afraid that the duster is GONE. At least for now. (Don't worry he must have some left over from the ones he got in TGIQ.) I love having Spike/Drac banter because Drac is convinced that he's better and Spike just wants to knock him down a peg or two. Thank you that's quite a compliment. Yes, he is starting to get obsessed with Spike. That and the way his lovers feel might be addressed in upcoming chapters. Well here's chapter 12, I bet it came faster than you expected.

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Despite the last few days being busy Faith felt that hardly anything actually got done. The only new tidbit that she had gleamed was the confirmation that Dracula did buy Spike. She tried not to think too hard on what she had to do to get that information though. They needed to act fast to find Spike even if it brought her own inner demons to the surface in the process. Still...

_Damn it Wes_...

Still she had a job to do and she planned to do it well. The problem was the red tape that was preventing her from taking Angel and the others to Romania. The Watchers Council was not as helpful as she had hoped. Giles had claimed that the new Council would be more efficient than it's predecessor. Faith had yet to be impressed with how they treated this crisis.

The girls she was currently with were either to busy to lend a hand or wanted nothing to do with helping vampires. Faith could't even ask for the assistance of one of the other units that she worked well with due to their involvement in South America. Carey in particular drove her batty as she learned that the girl had a serious hate for B and her vampire exboyfriends. From what other girls had said there had been a huge blow up between Buffy and Carey. Egos were bruised as they clashed with one another. Carey referred to it as "Ms. Summers 'tude for thinking she's better than everyone else."

Faith herself knew all too well how Buffy would sometimes unintentionally act as if she was the only one that could handle a situation in the past. With someone like Carey it was a disaster waiting to happen. Another sore point had been that the head slayer had what many of the younger slayers had seen as a hypercriticalness. Here was their leader who slept with not one but two vampires, one that it was rumored had been soulless at the time. Carey had taken any chance she had lately to use her new favored phrase of "Slutty the vampire layer" whenever B was mentioned. Faith had given up on trying to set the girl straight knowing that Carey barely respected her anyway.

With all the work she was doing Faith was constantly bothered by her dream. What did it mean? As much as she tried to figure it out nothing seemed to sound right. The Watchers were all too eager to help saying nothing of value. It made her wonder how Wesley could have done things, not that pansy Wes but the rough unshaven one that had her on edge. He would have known what to do for Angel, Spike, her and the Council. The guy always had an answer for everything.

Robin called her daily to recap the events from each others' fronts. They had agreed to put them on hold and focus on the job for now. Never being "on hold" with a guy Faith worried what that actually meant. Were they politely breaking up? Could they see other people until they got back together? On TV she had once seen a couple go "on a break" that lasted less than a day and the guy couldn't even keep his pants on then. Robin had always been straight with her on what he meant so he had to be now, right?

"I have to tell you something Faith, it important that you listen."

Her mind raced with the usual guy excuses he could come up with: _met someone else, can be friends, not working out, did you really think you're my type?_

"Things are getting bad around here--very bad. Giles is refusing to budge on his stance not to send slayers to Romania."

"Huh--wait what?" She hadn't expected that at all. "Is this because of Angel--"

"Not everything is about him." Robin answered tiredly. "The treaty is in a fragile stage at the moment where any intruders a.k.a. slayers coming over would be treated as an act of war between the Council and the Count. Rupert doesn't want to risk things since we don't know the extent of Draculas' power. Apparently he's made a lot of powerful allies over the years."

"What kind of buddies does he have? What kind of firepower are we talking about? Because I'm thinking that--"

"Faith." His voice is calm as ever but she knows he wants to make the point clearer. "We're talking about nations here, people that would be seriously freaked about teams of powerful women, not the kind of trouble we want to be facing."

"Always threatened by strong women...hell I know some guys find that a turn on." She joked weakly.

"Know I do," Robin teased back. "There is another problem however...the Council is spilt on this issue. Hell they've been arguing for awhile but things are starting to get out of hand. If it gets worse...Rupert might not be in charge much longer the way things are going."

"What are you talking about? Giles is the man, he's got the most skills and has been in charge since we got the new slayers!"

"That doesn't mean that he hasn't been challenged by others. And he's not the one with the most experience." Robin corrected hastily. "There are members from the old Council still about that weren't in the explosion. And believe me saying that their not happy with the way things are being run is an understatement! They have been underhandedly taking control of situations and trying to get slayers to see their way of thinking.

"The best outcome at this point? It looks like a spilt Council taking slayers to their sides. At worse, the old Council taking over and getting rid of the new ways. Whatever happens it doesn't look too good."

"Damn." Flopping heavily onto her bed Faith tried to think of something that might help. "What about B and the others? They wouldn't let this happen, right? What does this mean for Angel? I can't keep him here forever." She didn't bring up Spike knowing that Robin would fill in that blank himself.

"They are on some mission where it's likely they're not to be back for months. H.D.P." Heavy Demon Populations were especially hard to weed out taking longer due to the innocent demons and humans that were hard to get out of the conflict. "They might not know the damage being done since it was ordered that they retain radio silence until the mission is complete. As for your situation..."

"What?" Her stomach already in knots turn unpleasantly.

"It's one of the few things the Council has agreed on. The vampire--Angel should not be allowed to leave."

"What shit is that?" Faith exploded leaping to her feet again.

"If he does go after Spike without help his connect to you and the Council could make things worse. That was what Rupert said by the way. The other side doesn't want any vampires escaping."

"Let me guess, they want to introduce Angel to a nice friendly long piece of wood." Faith paused frowning at her choice of words. "Huh, didn't that sound really suggestive..."

"Well, no they don't seem to want to kill Angel." Faith could almost see him shrugging at the idea. "There is some interest of course, for the curse I guess, but they want him to be locked up."

Something was seriously wrong with that statement and she just knew it was going to bite her in the ass soon.

"Faith, I know you want to help him--them. You can't baby, if you go against them, BOTH of them then your be--"

"A rogue slayer." She finished smiling bitterly at the irony.

The truth was that she had no idea what she could do. Maybe Giles was right about not causing waves when the treaty was underway. Another part of her though thought about Illyria and how help had been refused then. What if Illyrias' army had been active? It would have been disastrous. The slayers numbers would be no match for the demons and their chance to keeping the portal closed would have been lost because Giles refused Angel. That was how Angel saw it and Faith couldn't help seeing it that way either.

But it wasn't exactly the same thing, was it? This time not acting would keep the armies from raining down on them. It would not however save Spike.

In their cell the trio were getting restless to the point when even Illyria complained about their idleness. Angel, though not healed yet, did not take the news well. He was quite vocal on the faults of the Council and took out his frustrations on the wall leaving a hole in it.

"Just tell them that we're not connected to the damn Council and let us go! If these people know anything about my track record with them then they'll know that I'm not exactly Rupert Giles' drinking buddy!"

"Yeah, maybe not but you banged his slayer." Faith replied easily not caring if she was being crude. If she was going to be forced to see both sides so should he.

Angel laughed harshly and opened his mouth to make biting retort. She didn't give him the chance.

"Look Angel, I'm really sorry about this man. I just...I want to do the right thing but it isn't always clear. I figure that this way makes the most sense, you know? It's not like this is forever and after this treaty crap is done with maybe I can--"

"No." Angel shot back forcefully. "I appreciate all you've done for us Faith. I really do. I can't ask more of you. You've made a life for yourself now, you have things that you never had before. A place where you belong. A purpose. I don't want you to throw that all away for me."

"I only have it because of you." She threw back stubbornly.

He met her steady gaze and shared an all too brief grin. "You've come along way."

She chuckled ducking her head away from him view. "Ahh, don't go mushy on me now, it ruins the whole cool dark creature of the night image."

"You think so? I've been told it's pretty hot."

From the corner Connor snorted in reply. She half expected Angel give the kid the stink eye for smarting off. The affectional look he bestowed instead stunned her.

"I do not understand why we must linger in this dilapidated structure much longer. I dislike the confinement of these walls." She glowered at the room then preceded to stare at Faith in confusion. "You are the leader here, the choice is yours to make yet you obey the commands of weaklings. Why? The strong should govern."

"Slayers don't work like that Blue, I use to think they did..." She had honestly believed it had been their right has the chosen ones to do what they pleased until it got out of control. The Council provided the type regulation that she and many slayers needed.

"I can comprehend, Wesley explained the concept to me. Watchers are your guides much like my Qwa'ha Xahn. I do not believe they should not make commands in battle, that right was given to you when you received your power. I could fathom if this was because of your better slayer. She rules over you because she defeated you for dominance, did she not?" Illyrias' head tilted quizzically awaiting an answer missing the much quicker responses Wesley and her Spike would give her. Perhaps these beings were truly slower than she gave them credit for.

The other three didn't know how to reply, Connor because he had no idea what they were talking about, Angel didn't want to ruffle feathers and Faith herself didn't know for sure how to answer.

"B...it wasn't like that, she was the slayer before me, well after another girl but she's done it longer." She shrugged, it was the simplest way to phrase it and she didn't think Illyria would get the other stuff.

"Her reign was over when she died, that was the way Wesley explained it. One is chosen and when she is killed the role goes onto another to take. You did not die in battle while she has, it is you who the new warriors power springs from not her. You should be in rightful command, her resurrection was not natural for your kind. The interference of the order of things should have ended the line. Regardless she is the usurper who has stolen your kingdom from you."

That was a different theory from the ones she had heard, it was suppose to be B that was in charge not her. Faith doubted anyone would care enough to listen to her that way. It wasn't like she even wanted the job in the first place.

"Look, we can take after ourselves Faith. You don't have to do choose to do anything, we're--we being Connor and me--not asking you to do that." The vampire murmured reclining back onto the cot.

If she didn't have to choose then why did Faith feel like she was being torn in two different directions? Who was she supposed to be? The good reformed slayer that obeyed the rules that would ignored her friends or the rogue slayer that could once again cause havoc for the Council?


	13. Chapter 13

Lady Kate: I'm trying to at least mention as many characters from BTVS/ATS as I can. You'll see another character in this chapter. As for Angels' Avengers mixing it up with Dracula...not for awhile I'm afraid.

Reptilian Goddess: Well here's another chapter, I try to undate as soon as I can. You'll see the reason for some of the Carey Buffy-bashing here. Not everyone is going to see things the same way that Buffy/Giles and the rest do. Sorry about the Council politics confusing you. Anything you'd like me to clear up for you? Difficult decisions... more so than you think.

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The life of a slayer was a hard one. Carey Sullivan had grown up raised by her first watcher never knowing her own parents. Her whole life had been taught in the ways of the Council and slayer lore. Tales of the slayers of the past were her bedtime stories making her determined to excel when her time finally came. She had learned hand to hand combat instead of waiting for the skills to come to her like so many before her had. Learned tracking and hunting all to fine tune herself.

Carey had never expected for that day to be marred by her Watchers' death. More shocking was the fact that she was not the one chosen girl, now it was an army. It was an exciting moment in history nonetheless and she had been thrilled to meet those who had been chosen. For the first two weeks of training with the new slayers under Buffy Summers, Carey was in awe of the older girl. Though she was only a year younger than Summers herself she still regarded her as a role model. The third week changed her prospective of everything the new order stood for.

Old methods that Carey had grown up with were thrown out in favor of new ideas. Half of these suggestions weren't even from Mr. Giles or Summers but from her nosy friends. The slayer handbooks were taken from the libraries, old experienced Watchers who had survived were pushed aside for the laughable "Scoobies." Was she actually suppose to follow the orders of the geeky cyclops and the annoying fanboy? It felt like a slap in the face to her teachings.

Interested in finding out the reason for this madness Carey had researched Summers past thanks to the help of her new mentor. He had shown her the journals of Mr. Giles and several other watchers. She had thought that she would find the answers she sought to better understand why these new methods were apparently needed. What she found sickened her.

Buffy Summers, the woman she had admired was a fraud. She hadn't lived so long because she was good, oh no, it was because she was damn lucky. Against the Master she had died after her lack of planning had caused his escape only to be saved by Xander Harris. Angelus, who lost his soul after sleeping with a slayer, had tried to destroy the world. Did Buffy save it with skill? Why no, she used the help of another vampire that she would later sleep with making a deal with the devil to let him escape if he helped her.

For as long as she could recall Carey knew what was suppose to be done in a crisis. The hard choices that had to be made. Summers didn't it seemed. When Wilkins had kidnaped Willow Rosenburg the answer should have been to let the witch die. But no she gave him back the firepower he needed and caused unneeded bloodshed of her classmates by doing so.

Dying again her friends brought her back to life causing more problems for the slayer line that had ended up costing Carey her first Watchers' life. Summers brilliant plan for defeating the First? Activating the slayer during the battle, trusting her demon ex-boyfriends and actually worrying about the vampires escaping into daylight. Hello vampires, not going to matter if they make it outside.

Unable to listen to these new orders Carey had confronted Summers head on reminding her of the old teachings.

"That was then, this is now. We're fixing what didn't work." Summers had said.

That was the final insult, it was a affront to the memory of her Watcher and the way she was raised. She would not stand for it. "Really? Guess you're right. Your way sure seemed to keep you alive...oh wait, no it didn't."

Since then Carey had requested a transfer wanting nothing to do with Ms. Queen of all slayers. Her new Watcher had been supportive of this and guided her onto the right track. He had been overworked setting things right with the Council and the misguided Rupert Giles to join her in France. He had promised to rejoin her soon and for that she was thankful.

Faith Lehane wasn't much of a role model either, almost as much as a disappointment as Summers. A murderer, a slut (at least she use to be according to rumors), a demon supporter but at least she wasn't as bossy nor as fake as the other senior slayer. Carey was just happy that Faith had been ordered to leave. Soon they would deal with the vampire the way he should be dealt with not with mollycoddling.

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"Are you sure you want to do this now? We could wait until you've healed better."

"No, we need to leave now." Angel said removing the stints and bandages. "You heard what they said, they're shipping Faith out of here. She's the reason I haven't been staked yet and with the way these new slayers act I rather not find out how they react to souled vampires personally."

"Do you have a course of attack or are you merely acting out impulsively?" Illyria asked from her spot near the door.

"I have a plan!" He shot back irritably. "Well sort of, it's more of a plan in motion. Anyway, it's not like we have much of a choice. We need to get out of here and make it to Romania. Where we'll grace the Count with our presence and give him a piece of our mind."

Connor nodded noting that his father was in deadly serious by the steel he detected in his voice. He had to makes sure that they all were ready however. "How are you feeling?"

"Mostly sore but the injuries are healed." His father responded evasively. When he made to protest Angel met his gaze. "I've fought when I was worse off and done fine. We're doing this and that's final."

"I'm just worried about you and well...us if you get your ass handed to you." Connor replied rolling his eyes at his dad's sore expression.

"My ass will not be handed to me! This is going to work, I have been around for hundreds of years and able to handle them all just fine!"

"Like the two blotched up heists? Hey, I'm just saying not everything goes as planned!" Connor reasoned.

"I can't believe Gunn told you about those," Angel groaned, "and for the record neither of those were my fault. Magic and electric thieves aren't things you can plan for!"

"Okay, I'm just worried about the forty or so slayers stationed here verus the three of us. And the you know--ass handing-of-us thing."

"Trust me on this okay? I'm not going to risk letting anything happen to you, I promise." With that Angel stuffed the few items from the adjoined bathroom into his duster pockets. It wasn't much but every little bit would help on the trip ahead of them.

"I know dad."

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It wasn't fair, hell a lot of things weren't right with this picture. She knew that she should have fought harder about it but maybe she was just sick of the struggles. The Council had ordered her to leave and return to them to be reassigned. Faith had agreed not being able to stand around while others made the choices without her anyway. It was best for everyone this way she had reasoned. No potential wars would start, not unneeded deaths, Angel didn't want her to risk herself anyway. It was the right choice. So why did she feel like shit?

The thing that nagged on her might the most however was not leaving Angel when he needed her but the dream that she had. It felt like this was an event that her dream was warning her about, at least a part of it. Her mind kept replaying the first part with Spike when he was attempting to tell her something. Faith had figured that he was in it because he was in danger but what if it was something else? His appearance might have meant something but she focused on how she felt then instead. He had reminded her of Wesley, was dream Spike suppose to be guiding her?

Spike had told her that she was almost late and she had trouble making a choice. Taking out the strange metaphors like the clothes Faith could see it reflecting her current problem. Most haunting was Spikes' words, "Come now, you always know what is decent and practical, Faith."

Did she? Faith couldn't remember a time where she was able to make the right call for something like this. No matter what she decided she was still betraying someone.

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"He'll cutting it awful close isn't he?" Jane asked from her spot on the bottom of the stairs.

"He's always prompt, she's the one who's taking too long." Carey huffed beside her resisting the urge to check her wrist watch again. He was coming by soon to take over the command of leading them. She wanted to impress him after he had taught her so much and was nervous about screwing it up. Not many slayers had their own watcher, and while he had several other girl he taught she was his pet project.

Jane Jordan, two years her junior, had come from a strict religious backround. Her father was a preacher, her mother was a school nurse with their own sense of values making Jane very uneasy about her new role. At first she had felt that she was cursed scared to let her parents know of her powers. Her father saw it as a gift however and helped her embrace her new trials. Little by little she had learned to accept herself as a slayer. For the most part the others ignored her progress noting that she was adapting well and not believing her to be much of a trouble maker like Carey had been labeled by some.

What they did not know was that Jane didn't have the same distinctions of good and evil when it came to the demon world. She believed whole heartedly that all of these creatures were hell spawns killing any that would cross her path. No one had bothered to teach her these shades of grey when she first joined the ranks and the few that did know of it saw no point in setting her straight. While Carey herself did not kill first ask questions later she had yet to see anything from the demon community to change her mind of it's apparent evilness.

As both Jane and Carey will struggling to improve themselves into better warriors they had become fast friends. A few of the other girls had agreed with their way of thinking that was supported by the remaining members of the old Council. Why couldn't they work the way they wanted to without censor from Summers and her crew? Were they suppose to have these powers and just fall in line no questions asked?

_Not that anyone ever bothered to ask us what we wanted. Oh no, it's always Mr. Giles who decides what was right based on how his slayer had been. The slayer who had died twice under his watch_, Carey thought bitterly.

Things were about to change for the better and wouldn't you know it Faith Lehane was taking too long to leave. Carey didn't want the other woman to be there when he arrived. What was taking that damn cab so long to get there?

A creak came from atop of the stairs announced Faith as she threw her duffel bag over her shoulder giving some smart ass remark to earn snickers from the departing girls going on patrol. Was she saying good-bye to everyone? No wonder it was taking forever.

"Hey," Faith said tapping Jane on the shoulder, "I asked around and they said you moved Angel. Where is he? I've been looking all over for him. And I'm not leaving until I see him."

"I...umm...I don't know...er...where he is." Jane was a horrible actress as she turned pleading eyes to Carey.

"Riiight. Look cut the crap already 'cus I can pull better lies out my ass and you're just wasting time." Faith rolled her eyes at the exchange the two had. "Whatever, I'll find him myself."

"I wouldn't advise that."

Faith frowned at the interruption following the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway was a man who to most would be unimpressive. He was an old man who seemed to be almost too fraile to be intimating made up for it with his steely glare. He was flanked by three slayers Carey recognized from her training sessions as Sarah, Alison and Michelle.

"Oh no?" Faith asked clearly not threatened by this unassuming man nor his slayers. "Really, why not luv?"

Carey winced at the fake accent Faith had adopted to taunt her Watcher with.

"Like disrespecting your superiors it's usually best not to get involved with matters that no longer concern you. Not that I expect you of all people to understand such things Ms. Lehane." The man answered angered but still with an air of on in total control.

"You know who I am?"

"It would be impossible for anyone not to after those lovely mug shots and your appearance on Americas' most wanted, wouldn't it? Harder still for me to forget you though I wish such a thing was possible." He responded flatly.

"I don't think you've met my watcher, have you Faith." Carey asked looking at the young womans' confusion. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Roger Wyndam-Pryce."


	14. Chapter 14

**Silvermane 1:** Thanks for commenting. :)

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"Yes, I think you recall my son, don't you? You certainly made the impression on our family."

Faith had never thought much about Wesleys' parentage except when they use to joke about it in Sunnydale. Yet she had thought she would see more of a resemblance of the father and the son. The only thing she could see were the eyes, a coldness that she had seen in Wesleys' eyes the last time they were together had unbalanced her. It was nothing like the unemotional depths she now saw in this man. This was the type of guy that didn't take shit from anyone.

"Yeah, Wes was really something." She responded weakly.

Rogers' mouth tightened briefly as if to make a cutting remark yet he managed to restrain himself giving the impression that he had better things to do than waste an effort on a lost cause. "Now, Ms. Jordan was it? Take us to see the vampire."

"Hey wait a sec you can't--"

"Ms. Lehane your orders are to report back to the Council not interfere with other assignments. You can do that much right can't you? I would hate to think that you were not thinking of the best interest of the Council again." Rogers' voice held anything but regret at the idea. Turning to the uneasy Jane he gave a long suffering sigh. "Well what are you waiting for girl, stop gawking and do your job. I didn't come here to watch you daydream!"

Jane blushed murmuring her apologies and lead him and the other four slayers down the hallway. When Faith took a step forward a girl with her hair in an impossibly neat bun blocked the entrance. "Mr. Wyndam-Pryce has not authorized you to see the vampire. Please restrain yourself or we'll be forced to bring you down." The young woman warned in a bored voice.

"Bring me down huh? Flattering as hell but I gotta say I like it with someone with less of a stick up their ass." Faith replied with a shameless grin flashing the shuttering woman a wink over her shoulder.

Once she was out of the other girls' sight Faith reached for her cell and clicked on Robins' line. She would have clocked the slayer in years past and gone on ahead heedless of the odds. Now she had learned how to play it on the down low. It wasn't as much fun but it got better results in the long run. When Robin picked up he was in a bad mood, in the distance she could hear angry yells of discontentment. Ah the joys of teaching the new girls.

"Sounds like your having your own party there. Did you take away their meds again?"

"Nah, we're not that crazy. You kind of learn within the first two weeks that you shouldn't take away anything from ax wielding women with short tempers. Though Andrew taste in movies leaves much to be desired with this crowd." He remarked with a tired chuckle.

"Another vampire movie-fest? Damn, does that man has a death wish or something? The girls have been sick of those things since week one."

"Yeah, well word of your problem has reached around here and he left some films about Dracula." Judging by his tone he knew what she was calling about. "What's the story?"

"You said that things were bad with the Council last time we spoke. Is it spilt? 'Cuz Wes' dad is here and is trying to take Angel. I spent two minutes with that dude and I got frosty. No way do I wanna leave Angel with him."

When Robin didn't answer right away Faith felt the familiar dread return. "You're still there aren't you? Damn it Faith you're suppose to be on your way back--"

"Did the Council send him or not?" She threw back.

"They...yes they sent him, Roger is still with the Council, Giles wants Angel here to see personally that he stays away from Romania."

Her mind raced with the implications furious at Giles, Roger, Robin and herself. "Why send him? This guy hates me, he hates Angel, lost his son while he was working for Angel and now the Council trust him to bring him in? Hell no! They can't--Giles can't even trust me to go with them at least until Angel is handed over to him?"

"He's a well respected member of the Council, he has boundless resources at his disposal and is the key to stopping this feud. Least that is how Rupert sees it. Roger gave his word that he'll bring Angel in alive."

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Checking to see that he was well guarded by the four slayers Roger entered the confinement. It was an empty office that was often used as an interrogation room. The slayers were sure to see to it that the area was cleaned up properly at least. None of the stains from the former demon prisoners were visible on the pristine floors.

He nodded absently pleased to see that the codes for disposing were being met. The floors were still wet, which meant that it was cleaned just before these prisoners were brought in. Not perfect or up to his standards but it would do for now. It would be untraceable to the human senses though not vampire standards he suspected. With this thought on his mind Roger glanced at the occupants.

On the left hand side sitting at the table was a brunette woman with delicate features slumped over leaning with her elbows on the table. She held her head in her hands turning to meet his gaze in a curious way. Such a thin tiny thing she was in her red floral print dress and oversized sandals. Smiling shyly she waved uncertainly. "Hi, um...I know ya'll are busy and all that. I don't mean to cause any trouble, it's just that we haven't eaten in awhile."

She looked over to a boy seated across from her causally twirling a pen between his fingers. The youth barely looked at the group before returning to his idle trick. Roger quickly made mental notes of them disregarding them as potential threats. From his own research during Wesleys' foolhardy work with the vampire he had noted that the demon liked to keep human workers, and rarely had other demon assistance.

"These are the manners they teach in L.A. now a days? Most find it proper to ask for introductions instead of making demands. Not that you are in any position for either. As for eating, you will be fed when we decide and not before." He announced ignoring her words explanations.

He glanced in disdain at the puddles of sticky blue liquid that covered the table along the scattered empty bottles. It was a disgraceful mess that reflected the looseness of the rules that he abhorred. From the corner of his eye Roger could see Carey cringe. Yes, they would speak on this later. How many times had he said that they were not allowed to bring the prisoners food or drinks?

Without looking at Carey he held out his hand expectantly as she fumbled around for his clipboard. Taking it from her Roger circled the table keeping respectful distance from the vampire that stood dangerously near to the opened blinds. The sun was still up soon to set not that it would do the beast much good.

"Names?" He asked expectantly.

"Fred--sorry--," the woman said noting the odd expression on Rogers' face," --Winifred Burkle."

"What is your connect to the vampire Angelus and what is it you do exactly?"

"First of all his name is Angel now." Fred corrected hotly showing Roger a spark of defiance he would have never suspected. "As for what I do I work in the science division, examining the ectoplasm, entrails, electric impulses, sonic waves--"

She ticked off more names for the varies things she did seemingly lost in the joy her job gave her. The slayers stared at one another silently asking is she was serious. Fred still went on ratting off different things she would study playing idly with an empty bottle on the soaked tabletop. Having enough of that Roger cleared his throat.

"That will do Ms. Burkle. I believe I have the general idea of your job. What about you young man?"

"Michael Corvin." The boy said glancing up with amused eyes. "I fight demons." He added as an after note knowing that question was coming.

"Not all it would seem." Roger said meaningfully.

"Nope. Neither do you, then again I think it would sorta defeat the purpose of having slayers if you're going to kill them."

"We're not demons!" Jane cried out in distress.

"Don't let him get to you." Carey hissed back under her breath.

The youth unfazed by the reactions he received shook his head. "What you just think you magically got your powers? Hate you break it to you but you're all part demon now––––"

"That is quite enough." Roger leaned down until he was face to face with him. "I've met your type before boy, I know what you're like."

"I kind of doubt that."

"You think you're indestructible since you work with brutal monsters. That they won't harm you since you chose their side. Demons are pure evil boy, and they should be dealt with as such!" Face flushed from his anger Roger was furious to see that this youth simply stared back at him.

"You know you remind me of someone I knew too." The boy whispered so softly that he almost missed it. "And that makes me feel sorry for them," he nodded towards the slayers, "but more for Wesley."

In a move so swift it shocked the girls under his charge Roger slapped the young man across the face. Fred made to raise but was stopped by a cold voice.

"Touch him again and you'll regret it." Carey quickly held up her crossbow at the approaching vampire. "You wouldn't hit me if you tried." Angel said not bothering to look in her direction, his eyes focused on the Watcher gripping the young mans' shirt.

"Now let him go Roger."

That seemed to bring the old man back to his senses. "So you do know who I am." He realized glancing at the trio.

"We've met in a matter of speaking. At least with someone who stole your appearance." The demon shrugged. "Personally I was more impressed with the robot."

Releasing the boy the Watcher stood to face Angel bringing his cross into plain view.

"Rupert Giles was a fool to let you wander around corrupting his charges and leading others astray. I'd wage that it was you who murdered the members of your little "team" in the first place!"

Angels' eyes hardened to fine points briefly flashing amber. "That's a damn lie."

"Is it? Strange how all your people seem to drop like flies." Frowning Roger briefly thought about hearing something from Rupert Giles as he left in regards to Ms. Burkle. Not wanting to waste time he had left without hearing the other man out. No matter, she presented no threat and bared no signs of being a vampire herself.

"You're awfully smug for someone trapped inside a room with a vampire. No wait that's normal for a Watcher isn't it? To be so full of yourself that you make stupid mistakes?"

"Hardly Angelus, in case it slipped your notice I have four slayers ready to take you down should you get out of control. While you on the other hand can make no such claims." Roger taunted noticing the boy now carefully moving near the window yanking at his collar to get more air. Weakling.

The vampire nodded. "Maybe not or maybe I was just stalling for time."

No sooner did Angel say this then did he knocked away Rogers' cross and tossed him over the table knocking into two slayers as he did so. Carey fired an arrow at Angel onlt to have it be intercepted as Fred leaped forward. Carey was horrified believing that she had hit the woman. Tilting her head to the side Fred pulled back revealing the arrow held in her left hand and not through it.

"Intriguing." She said meeting Careys' startled gaze. "I wish to test these limitations now. Let us engage in battle and discover what a slayers' might is compared to a god-king."

"What?"

Sarah who had gotten past Fred during the exchange of the two women had attacked Angel head on, trading hits with him but not quite managing to get past his defenses. After a nasty hit to her back she rolled with the punch coming up close to the boy. Without a backwards glance the young man elbowed Sarah hard in the stomach sending her back into the vampires' direction. Angel brought his arm out striking the stunned slayers' in the throat sending her body across the room barely missing hitting Carey who dodged just in time.

Alison had leapt to her feet once she saw that Jane was helping a dazed Roger stand. Seeing the battle ready stance of Fred and the shocked Carey she attacked. The slender woman nodded back at her. "You will do."

Obviously holding back due to her "weak" opponent Alison soon discovered the agileness the other woman had and let go of her restraint. Ducking a series of kicks, and the follow through punch Fred stared at the slayer strangely. She then hit Alison square in the face throwing the woman back so hard she bounced off the wall collapsing into a undignified position.

"This is a slayer? Pathetic."

"What are you doing girl snap out of it!" Roger roared at Carey who rose with Jane ready to join the fray.

That was when the young man tossed two lit matches onto the damp floor and table. Roger had mistaken the wetness for the drinks from empty bottles that had littered the table and the cleaning crews' work on the floor. As the fire soon spread quickly he knew the truth, it was alcohol that the vampire had smuggled in. It was a set up.

The glass exploded raining shards of glass when the woman, Fred causally tossed a fold out chair into it. The boy leaped out the window in a dangerous foolish fashion that would surely kill him from their height. The woman was next though she paused briefly to stare oddly at Roger before she dropped down after the boy. Angel was last shaking out his duster from stray glass fragments when he also met Rogers' gaze, nodded meaningfully and followed the others.

With a fire setting the room on blaze it was impossible to go after the group through the flames. Not that it made much difference to Roger. "Go after them! Their getting away!"

"We're on it , sir." Carey answered motioning for Jane to help a dizzy Alison take Sarah away from the inferno. She clicked on her headset. "Michelle, we have runners--intercept, over."

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The plan had been a little risky but luckily his dad was right on the money about the way they would overlook some details when faced with a legendary vampire. Connor was happy that they even had the rubbing alcohol and the mouthwash to use thanks in small part to Faith. Being a slob thanks to college life even paid off leaving them plenty of empty bottles to use. Still it was too early to gloat and they had miles to go to save Spike.

"I thought you said there was a car!" Angel exclaimed his sudden coolness fading in light of this finding.

"There was! I saw it drive up over here when Pryce came! It was right here!" Connor pointed frantically at the now vacant spot.

"This is just great! I make a badass exist and get trapped in the parking lot! You were suppose to look out for the car!"

"So now this is my fault?!" Connor yelled back, running towards the cars on the distant side of the parking lot.

"I'm sorry it's just--you were given one job and you couldn't keep an eye out for the car?!" He threw his hands up in a "what the hell" gesture.

"Not helping dad!"

"You lost the car!" The vampire cried out again in disbelief.

"We've already established that and again not helping!"

"These are the beings I have allowed myself to have an allegiance with. I sense that this feeling of deep shame is a normal occurrence for those who accompany your kind." Illyria said speaking more to herself than the other two.

A clicking sound drew the attention of the trio to a slayer holding a crossbow aimed for Angels' heart. "Take another step and you're dust."

Carefully stepping closer she jerked her head at Illyria. "Get back inside unless you want me to hurt you."

"You presume much to dare order those far above you. I should rip your insolent tongue from your mendacious mouth for this indignity."

"Nice to see that she's gotten over her shyness." Connor quipped.

A squeak of tires alerted them a second before a limo slammed into the slayer hitting her hard enough to send her flying.

"Well, we found the car." Angel remarked.

The door opened to reveal Faith with a slight smirk on her face. "Who's bringing who down now?"

"Faith? What are you–?"

"Just get your asses in, alright?" Seeing the fallen slayer start to rise Angel quickly saw the logic in listening to her. Piling into the limo Faith stepped onto the gas tearing out of the lot.

"Faith, why did you steal this--"

"Got tried of waiting for a cab." She joked.

"Faith..."Angel tried again.

"Look I really don't want to talk about right now, okay?"

"Sure...thank you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Tanya Potter:** Don't worry, you'll see Spike soon enough. Mwa-ha-ha 

**Silvermane1:** Thanks.

**Lady Kate:** I want to show more of the father/son moments. You'll see more of them bonding in future chapters along with Illyria who I admit I haven't gotten as involved with yet.

Yeah, having grown up the way she has and seeing what she views as Buffy favoring her friends, it all rubs Carey the wrong way. So far your the only one who has noticed the naming joke, lol. A have a few little jokes running through the story that are either related to the shows or similar types of movies. I wanted to do something with his character and having him as Careys' watcher seemed like a good fit for the things I wanted to do with him.

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_Journal of Dracula, _

Disciplining Spike proved to be a more tantalizing task than I had anticipated. Throughout the encounter he glared up at me with those bright soulful eyes of his. They were piecing, as if he could tell all my secrets at a glance and found them humorous. His shoulders were squared unwilling to show weakness, a head that while threatening to droop was no allowed to do so. Every movement of his protesting body showed his intransigence to obey my will even in light of the beating he was suffering.

I confess that I allowed it to go too far as I found myself too caught up in the act. I suppose it has been some time since I last gave a personal inspection over the treatment of an enemy. No wonder I became engaged in watching when Spike stared so intently on me. I can not recall ever having his undivided attention. I ordered Hans and Jon to cease and take him back to his chambers as he was of no further use to me in his current state.

Having taken longer than I would have liked I finally met Victor. He had been fortunate to have made it through the rebel forces in one piece. He was more confident than I had thought he would be about his endeavor saying that it was more profitable than he had foreseen. Victor babbled happily about one of his contacts alerting the attention of my former legal advisors Worfram and Hart. Though they were still keenly interested in Spike they were willing to be patient with my efforts. One of the lawyers, a woman named Lilah Morgan had been especially helpful unearthing information.

She had even included knowledge about Angel though Victor warned me about the limitations. Ms. Morgan it seems felt that she should highlight certain events from both vampires' past, claiming not all would be of use, and certain items about Angel were restricted under a contract. No matter, it was more than I had hoped for. Curiously Ms. Morgan had wanted no attention for her efforts. When I asked Victor about her motives he stated that she had her own vendetta against Angel and nothing in particular against Spike. Whatever the reason it suited my needs.

Dismissing Victor I read up on Spike first in an attempt to unravel this enigma. The files start once he first enters Sunnydale (although there are footnotes regarding William Pratt) in a attempt to heal his sickly lover Drusilla and fight the slayer Buffy Summers to add to the list of slayers he has killed in battle. Such strange happening occurred, Angelus' return, Spike joining the slayers' side, the gem of Amara, being "chipped" by the army, helping Ms. Summers, betraying them, falling in love with her, an affair, fighting for his soul, dying to close the hellmouth and his appearance at Worfram and Hart.

I believed that I would understand Spike better after knowing his past. It only adds more questions as if a piece is missing from the puzzle.

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"You are rather slow today Spike, is the workload too much for you?" Dracula said in ways of a greeting when the younger vampire finally entered the library. The blond was twenty minutes late spotting a new bruise on his right cheek from the unnamed stallion that he had not been swift enough to elude that night. From a location hidden from Spikes' sight the dark lord had watched the spectacle.

Peter had been forced to help more than he was suppose to in order for the blond to finish his labor in time to reach cover from the rising sun. The boys' feeble attempts did not aid Spike much as he was still recovering from his own injuries. Yet by some miracle they had finished and Spike was allowed to feast on his swine blood as a reward.

He was not sure why these difficulties of his foe were not as enjoyable as they previously were. Maybe it was the was the fire within this lowly vampire seemed a little muted. The tiredness in the weary face and the sagging of the shoulders.

"I can handle anything you can throw at me, you self-righteous wanker. Which is more than I can say for you. You'd faint if your dainty little hands had to lift a finger." Spike replied carelessly tossing the damage books onto a pile on the floor.

The irksome nature of Spike irritated the Counts' nerves once more and he found it both bothersome and strangely amusing. Which was odd as he never thought of any of the blonds' antic as entertaining before.

Dracula wandered in and out of the library to attended to his usual business checking up on his troublesome prisoner whenever he was able. Hours had passed when he had returned from yet another useless meeting with Ilie, who had yet to locate the elder. The Count had wanted to relax from his stressful day but instead of going to his chambers or office he found himself drawn to Spike. He found the younger vampire had given himself a break and was hiding among the bookcases leaning against the wall.

His attention was too captured in what he was reading to sense the other vampires' presence as he clutched a small worn book. This intrigued Dracula and he strained to see the title of the novel. He would surmise that it was one of the tasteless volumes that Elsa and her confidantes found pleasing. The kind that he loathed with every fiber of his being for the platitudinal aspects of the cheaply viewed "romance."

Fully expecting that he was astonished to find that Spike was reading the works of Lord Byron with an intense concentration. He had never seen the blond with a book except for the poorly written tome that had been written about himself and Spike had only gotten it for his beloved Drusilla. Without the mocking expressions, modern clothes, or the attitude Spike looked strangely...softer.

His features seemed almost angelic without the harshness. He noted that the bleach blond hair was now starting to fade away as Spikes' natural color roots were showing. Dracula recalled that he had not seen the real shade in decades, it was much more preferable. He wonder how much longer it would take to be rid of the ghastly white/blond locks.

When Spike shifted suddenly Dracula found himself recoiling further into the shadows. He knew that he should have ordered the other vampire to get back to his duties but he was reluctant to do so for some unknown reason. Scowling he slipped out of the room before Spike could detect him.

The next night brought more aggravating news that did not help the increasingly restless Count. He had hardly slept, had little hunger and was easy to anger. Servants were frightened, soldiers became yes men and the brides were strangely sedated. Obligations kept the lord in conferences too long to watch the progress of Spike, leaving the other vampire as one of the few that had been spared from his foul mood.

Miahi was on the move preaching about the new order rather than causing mayhem which was a good sign to send out Ilie to search for his tribe. Once they were united the elder and the Count could finally plan a course of action.

Finally relieved to have finished the galling meetings he went to retire to his chambers when he happened on a exhausted Spike in the hallway. At once he was overwhelmed by the smell of the stables that came from the other. They were much stronger than they should have been.

"Do you not bathe, boy? You should not have this stench at this hour!"

"Look you sodding muppet I've had it with your high and mighty remarks!" Spike fumed.

"Silence!" Dracula said yanking him by the band on his left wrist. "Madam Drake!"

"Yes, sir?" She answered nervously. The Count spoke in Romanian at a fast pace that she could barely keep up with despite her many years in his service. Quickly agreeing she called to the other servants to assist her.

Spike was uncertain how to react to this Dracula that seemed to have fallen off his rocker. All he could do was mutter nasty remarks as he was half dragged up the stairs struggling not to fall. His wrists were flaring with the searing pain letting him know that anymore resistance would be met with more agony.

When they made it to their destination Spike felt confused glancing at the other man. Still speaking in Romanian Dracula pulled the bewildered vampire inside. It was the room Spike was currently occuping in a disordered state due to his rushed start when he was awakened for his chores. Glaring at the mess Dracula pushed Spike into a chair with such force it fell against the wall with a loud smack. When Spike made to get up the Count intercepted bending over to grip the arms of the chair.

"I am not finished speaking with you, Spike. You will show manners and be still and silent. I will make this clear so even you can not misunderstand my meaning. Each day you are given tasks to do that you must complete to survive in my home. You have been slipping as of late and have not met my requirements, one of which is bathing regularly.

"That is unacceptable to me. You will meet my standards Spike, one way or another. I do not care if I have to throw you in the pond myself, I will make sure that you obey my commands. As I regretfully can not do so this late nor afford to devote any time to your lack of hygenie I am afraid that matter will be dealt with by others. You will not talk back to me and will comply to my wishes though."

Looking over to the source of the soft footfalls Dracula called out to the intruder never releasing his grip of the chair. "Yes Anselina, what is it?"

"Madam Drake is rushing and says that they will have to use our water instead. They will be here shortly."

"Good." He responded then for her ears only added. "I do hope you are not complaining my love."

"Of course not, I bathed earlier, though I'd wager Aleera is most crossed." She nodded respectly as she turned to leave give her lover a curious look as she left.

A group of servants then arrived and entered after their master bid them to hurry up. Spike stared on unsure if he was seeing right as stream rose from the many buckets. Filing into the bathroom they filled the tub with the hot water passing the empty buckets back and forth obvious wanting to exist as soon as they could.

Pointing at a select few of the servants Dracula spoke in a harsh voice instructing them about. Spike wished he could understand more, his progress in recalling the language was improving but he wasn't there yet. All of the women left in a rush one even casting a shy regretful glance back at him. Dracula himself strolled out beckoning one of the men towards him as Spike was ushered into the bathroom which was shut with a bang.

Uncertain of their intentions he was wary, they however were all business-like as they stripped him of his clothes and led him into the tub. The water was heavenly hot doing wonderful things for his aching body. He thought that once he was in that they would leave, they didn't. One man without warning dropped a pitcher of water over his head. They ignored his growling and threats shampooing his hair and adding some bath oils in.

Spike was feeling rather put out on the whole event as it was nothing like his idea of a pleasant soak. It was humiliating for one thing, and the scents were a bit overwhelming for his vampire sensitivity for another. The shampoo was stringing his eyes making him more grouchy.

"No more tears my arse." He muttered petulantly.

The whole procedure was rushed making any enjoyment all too brief. Soon he was having his hair dried off. One of the men attempted to use the towel to dry Spikes' lower extremities when his hand was snatched away.

"I can dry my own sodding bits!" He growled vamping out to frighten the poor man. The other three didn't so much as flinch the elder speaking in his native tongue while motioning to the bands. "Take away all my fun why don't you." He pouted returning to his human face.

Wrapping the towel securely around his waist he walked back into his room while the servants were messing around with the bathroom. Stretching to get the kinks out of his back he craned his neck. Feeling a tingling sensation running over his skin he followed it to find the Count still was in the doorway with the other man he was speaking with. While the man was yanking about god knows what Dracula stared at him with an unreadable expression.

He was there literally naked (alright he had a bleeding towel) in front of one of his old enemies. The other must have seen him as an ant beneath his shoe now that he had stripped him of everything. That thought made Spike furious. Beneath him. Well he was better than Dracula, Cecily, the Scoobies and Angel ever gave him credit for. He'd show that pounce that William the Bloody wasn't about to bow down to him. Glaring coldly Spike watched as the men existed with Dracula locking the door behind them.

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"Hmm..." Anselina bit her lip unsure what to say. Should she say something or let it go? Aleera and the others would not state the oddness. They might have let it pass in light of his recent attentions meaning that it fell once again to her. Sighing inwardly she risked looking at her sullen lover. He had not said a word yet and she was beginning to worry. It was certainly different than their usual encounters.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" She ventured. He didn't answer, at least not with words, he simply reclined further against the headboard. "You have been most unsettled these past nights."

"I do not like speaking in riddles, speak plainly Anselina. Are you or the other unsatisfied in some manner?"

This was fast turning into a dangerous conversation that he could easily take as a means to threaten his manhood. Why did men twist words like this? "Of course not though I fear you might be. You have been with us all in an almost frantic nature. Despite this you seem unsated."

The Count frowned pondering this for a moment. "I can not say, perhaps it is merely the affects of stress."

"Perhaps," she agreed,"you have said that Spike can be quite trying--"

Her searching hand was instantly slapped away as her lover turned narrowed eyes at her. "Never mention that name in our bed, are we clear?"

Anselina raised an eyebrow at the overreaction and nodded. "Of course. I will not mention him again."


	16. Chapter 16

**Tanya Potter:** Thank you, you'll see him in the next couple chapters too.

**Silvermane1: **Thanks!

**Housaholic32:** Yes, Dracula has no idea how he feel but don't worry he will soon. ;) Thank you for commenting, you don't really know how the readers feel about your story until they give you feedback. It helps keep me interested in writing more.

**Shivera**: Both Spangel and Spike/Dracula are going to be present in some form in this story. This is a slash story.

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Another night another backbreaking night of work leaving Spike to soak in the already prepared tub. It seemed that the Count was taking measures to ensure that he regularly bathed. The servants were a tad odd bickering at each other about whether they should listen to orders. From what he could gleam they didn't know if they should leave him alone. The eldest had to drag his assistants out leaving Spike with the first relaxing drip he had since he came to Romania.

Sighing with contentment he went at his own pace to wash his hair and add less of the bath oils in. It was still too much of an overpowering smell for his taste not that he had much in the ways of selection. Leaning further into the warmth his hand lingered on his stomach as his eyes drifted shut. Just when he was considering taking full advantage of being alone a voice drew his attention to the doorway.

"As I suspected, you are truly beautiful to behold when you do not hide it behind your image." Anselina said allowing herself to view his form in the tub without shame.

"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed one hand automatically cupping himself as the other searched fruitlessly for the misplaced towel. "Give a bloke half a warning!"

"Why? You have nothing to be ashamed of," she commented, "and as I said you hide far too much."

"Not much I can hide at the moment." Spike mumbled feeling his old gentlemanly manners rearing their head in light of her unexpected interruption. Her confident stance also threw him completely off his game, she had all the cards. "Why come here?"

"I wanted to see you," she answered. At his snort she smiled fondly at him and he couldn't help but return it.

"That right? S'ppose you seen it all now." He remarked doing the tongue thing that drove Angel insane. Not in the pleasant way, mind.

"Not yet." Anselina murmured coming closer to him. Spike leaned further against the tub to hid his sudden desire. It had been awhile since he had gotten laid and even though he knew it would be a bad idea not-so-little-Spike wasn't listening.

"Let me help you."

His eyebrows shot up at that struggling to retain his cool. "Yeah, alright if that's--I mean you could--"

Raising her hand she produced a towel for him to dry off with. Her eyebrow raised as if to say "what else were you expecting" making him feel foolish and wrong footed. Taking it from her Spike carefully slipped it on over his waist and careful walked away from her. Anselina didn't seem to get the message and stayed close to his side.

"I have brought you new clothes to wear." She opened the dresser to reveal it now had three new outfits folded next to his less than impressive clothes Dracula had sent him. They were not the heavy labor style he was currently wearing nor were they as dated. Three pairs of black leather pants with three silk shirts of scarlet, azure and black. A thrill of excitement washed over him at touching the butter soft leather and smooth shirts. They were more than he had hoped for but he could for see an oversight in the selection.

"Sorry luv, s'nice and all that just can't see it lasting long with the ponies." Spike said glancing longingly at the clothes.

"There may be an occasion that you may be called upon to wear them."

"Yeah when the wanker finally stakes me." He commented slipping his work pants on and tossing the towel onto the floor. What was it with his sudden shyness? "Now if you got something t' say just say it..."

Spike frowned, Anselina had slipped out without a word. Muttering about crazy bints that like to tease sex crazed vampires he went back to dressing for his job at the library.

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The master of the castle was not to be trifled with. His frightening temper had not vanished the next day as they had prayed it would. Madam Drake had spoken on behalf of the staff to beseech the brides to do something to lessen his anger. Most had little interest in doing so as they were benefiting from the Count frustrations. Why ruin a good thing? Elsa, if she were not locked away under the influence of the power of Miahi would have simply to ease the burden from Madam Drake. The lone bride that had a strong insight into how disastrous it could be was Anselina.

Dracula needed to focus on his mission to protect his people not get distracted. They would all be doomed if things kept up this way. He was ignorant of his attraction to Spike and would not see it. Mentioning such a thing was out of the question, Anselina knew that he would not react well to it. There were only to clear options: either make her lover aware of it or take Spike out of the picture all together.

Killing Spike held little appeal, true it would keep Dracula from losing sight of the oncoming battles but it might backlash with his wrath for acting without his say. Making him see the truth for himself though, it would be tricky. The rewards for such a task were very tempting indeed. The master could be very generous for her efforts and having another male lover in Spike...well it would be worth the risk. Smiling confidently she strolled down the corridor already plotting her course of action

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Finding the lord of the manor proved more difficult than Anselina had thought. For hours she had searched to of no advil coming across fearful staff speaking gibberish about Draculas' dark mood. He had never loitered long in on spot proving arduous to catch. Thwarted by his speed and unknown whereabouts she had given up deciding to seek out the comfort of her rooms.

Halfway there her sharp hearing picked up a familiar sound and she moved swiftly towards it. Reaching the origin point of the noise she came to a sudden stop as the door flung open by Marishka. The woman smirked at her through heavy lidded eyes giving off a very pleased with herself vibe as she made her way to the direction of the "family room." Anselina could hear the faint giggling of her fellow brides. Smelling the scents wafting off of Marishka she had very little doubt what was occurring. At least she finally knew where he had been.

Inside laying alone in his vast bed was her lover looking anything but relaxed. With is long dark hair pooled in disorder on the pillows and deep scowl he looked like a banshee she had seen in Ireland ready to wail his painful cry of distress. The not-quite-pout a second later however ruined the image. Now accompanied with his crossed arms he seemed more like a child who's favorite toy had been taken away. It was so unlike anything she had seen or thought of him before that Anselina found that it deeply troubled her.

"I beg of you, please speak of this problem. I do not like to see you suffer so. Despite your current...activeness you have little relief."

"I do know not of this problem you speak of. It has been a great vexation to me. It is as if my sight has been taken away and I must search for the answers that elude me in the darkness." The Count tossed the sheets to the side going to the desk to retrieve a bottle of brandy.

Seeing the empty bottles next to the full one and the used glasses made Anselina frown, Dracula was usually the type to keep things organized and did not approve of the idea of drinking outside his usual assigned areas. The bedroom had never been one of them.

"Where have you been as of late, Anselina? You were not with the others." His disapproval was evident, normally he had not been this harsh about their goings, not unless he had called for them in advance.

"Forgive me, I was searching for you earlier my lord. I am afraid I was not quick enough to find your location beforehand." She slowly moved over to the makeshift bar much as one would face a predator, vigilant for any outwards signs to indicate his movements. Tracing the spills on the surface of the desk she circled pattens idly in an attempt to appear at ease. Quite the opposite was true, if her ploy should fail...

He drained the glass in one steady gulp when such behavior, such lack of grace would have disgusted him not long ago. Sighing regretfully as he glanced at the now empty glass he lifted his gaze to watch her over the rim.

"I asked whoever I could, Madam Drake, Hazel, even Spike..." She trailed off at the irritation that burned hotly in his face.

"You asked him?" He asked.

"I asked whoever I could, I do not know what either his or your schedules are."

"What is this? What are you hiding from me?" Dracula demanded yanking the item from her loose unresisting grip breaking the glass he held in his haste.

"Nothing my lord, I just felt that I should clean the messes that lie about."

He sniffed the towel taking in the scent of the previous owner. The reaction was instantaneous. The Counts' eyes slid close even as his mouth opened to let loose a broken moan of desire. Anselina watched in amazement as Dracula held the towel to his nose with a tight white knuckle grip. His body responded unable to hide his abrupt lust to the potent odors. The blonds' uncommon scent mingled with the bath oils and Spikes' arousal that Anselina had brought on.

It acted as a powerful aphrodisiac to Dracula, more so than she had planned. When his eyes sprang open she could see the dilated pupils. The growl that soon accompanied this discovery made her realize was taking a leave of his normal senses and embracing his animalistic urges. When she made an uncertain step backwards he was soon upon her.

Clothes were shredded, kiss were hard, bites broke skin and Anselina soon found herself tangled in his limps never reaching the bed. She was sure that if this was a sign of things to come she would be more than willing to offer whatever help she could in Draculas' growing obsession with Spike.

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Gasping for unneeded breath the two fell apart. He wore a horrified expression no longer clinging to blissful ignorance. During their intercourse all he could think about was Spike not Anselina. The blonds' knowing smirk, his voice, and his brilliant eyes. Flashes of bare skin Dracula had glimpsed after his bath, the curls that he longed to grip in the heat of passion having to settle for Anselinas' straight shoulder length hair instead.

Soft curves were almost forgotten for hard muscles and a flat taunt chest. Kissing her lips not that pouty mouth that frequently abused him. He blocked out her scent lost in the one that had sent his senses on fire. Never in his many years could he recall being so completely taken over by anyone. And why did it have to be Spike of all people?

If the other vampire knew of his consuming lust...he didn't want to think of Spikes' reaction. Not when he was too caught up in his own. What had made him feel this way about the other man? They had nothing in common outside his discovery of Spikes' apparent love of poetry. The younger vampire was headstrong, rude, used low brow humor, had been a long time enemy--the list was endless.

Was it the challenge then of Spikes' seemingly un-attainability perhaps? It seemed to most logical. The vision of bending Spikes' will, and body to his liking was highly appealing. A image suddenly came to him of the blond seated at his feet submissively begging his master for release. Though it did wonders for his libido he sadly could not imagine the others' defiant facade matching the stance.

The concept of being attracted to a man did not bother him nearly as much. He always could appreciate beauty in all it's forms. True Dracula had been known as a ladies man, his brides were a testament to that, but he had his reasons. He had not had a male lover in many years, the last were still sore topics that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Dracula wanted to ignore this new temptation now that he knew of it. The idea made more sense in theory than in practice. For the Count knew himself only to well. He was a creature of passion that gave into his desires. He never attempted to resist the sirens' call before.

"What are you thinking?" Anselina asked softly besides him, wiping the sweat off her neck lazily. He had truly forgotten she was there in his musings.

"That you have taken a great risk in your plan." He said producing the towel.

"I know. I had to try."

"This is not enlightening news, I do not know which is worse: knowing what my discontentment is or not knowing." Pressing the towel to his face he inhaled the delectable scent savoring it a second only to shake himself out of it with distress. "I must rid myself of this weakness."

"What do you propose? A de-lusting spell?"

"No, I fear that will not work." He had fought off such spells and knew they only lasted for so long. Anselina while gifted in the ways of magic was only taught predictions and such. She was no where near talented enough with advance spells.

Turning to his lovely brides would prove futile as his coupling with Anselina just proved. It had done nothing to lessen his obsession with Spike. That meant to only way to rid himself of this disturbing development might be to seduce the blond into his bed. Dracula bit back a groan knowing that it was going to be awhile before he was finally able to be at peace again now that Spike was on his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

**TanyaPotter:** Both. How far or how involved each person is interested in the pairings is still is up in the air. At the moment Dracula wants Spike, Spike doesn't know about his rivals' feelings, Angel and Spike have issues from the one night stand, etc.

**Housaholic32:** You're see how Spike feels about it. He'll make his feelings on the matter very clear. The Angel chapter will come after the next chapter.

**Silvermane1:** We won't know what Angel thinks about Dracula seducing Spike for awhile. At the moment Angel and the others are busy trying to get away from the slayers.

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Sorting through the mess was still taking Spike awhile. He had spilt the piles of books into sections and was at the moment putting away the magic ones. The sooner the better he had figured remembering the books that tended to favor flesh and acid burning ones he had encountered. Briefly the idea of using the information the volumes contained to escape had entered his head. Spike had quickly vetoed it in light of his experience with magic. It was bound to get bollocked and he was not well enough versed in the subject in the first place.

A vague plan to do a runner had come to mind during his stable chores but he decided to put that on hold. He couldn't risk Peter getting hurt in the crossfire. He was watched at almost every moment, he could feel it even if he couldn't see it. They hadn't left him alone in the library either having Hans and Jon stand by to keep an eye on him. The pair hadn't respond--not verbally--to his taunts. They pushed him, flexed their muscles and grunted their discontentment much to Spikes' amusement.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Why don't you fetch us a nip, bit peckish." With no master to tell them what was proper treatment for their prisoner the duo were easier to manipulate. He couldn't get them to free him, they had just enough common sense to know better but he could weasel small things from them.

The shorter of the two left after a confused pause leaving him with just one goon. This allowed him more movement and a better chance to nick books he liked. The selection that had been in his bedroom had all been read already. He had his eye on some poetry, and old classics he hadn't seen since he had a pulse. Spike had come to enjoy these moments when he could be lost in a much loved tale or whenever the egoistical windbag wasn't lurking about which hadn't been for a couple of days. As if on cue the Count intruded on Spikes' peace of mind without so much as a "by your leave."

"Leave us." Dracula ordered the brute not commenting on the absence of the other. He didn't even appear to have noticed as his eyes were solely focused on the blond. There was an unreadable emotion on the formerly cold face that made Spike feel uneasy. Brushing off the fight or flight sensation he let the mask of irritation fall into place.

"Wondered when your all-mighty self would honor us with your presence." He bit out sarcastically. When the other did not answer Spike tensed ready to protect himself if need be. For a minute silence descended upon them choking them with the awkwardness leaving Spike practically gasping for words. He never could stand the emptiness of the muteness, he favored words treasuring the freedom the outlit that they provided.

They had been his companions in his lonely human life written on endless sheets that would never mock him for his heartfelt yearnings. In his soulless days he transformed their power from scriptural to vocal. It gave him power over his enemies and victims. Angelus had his torture become living art and Spike had his own style, his eloquence with his own brand of language.

Being insane in the high school basement after the soul he only had the rats, the First, the memories in his head and rarely the Scoobies when they had use for him. Talking didn't drive away any of the horrors but it was the only real company he had, the only thing that he knew for sure was real. They were his protection for an uncaring world that didn't want him in it.

"Oh, 'm not important enough to speak with, that it?" He snorted, "What a sodding loss."

The effect of his snark seemed to snap the Count from his musing as he looked on Spike as if he had just noticed he was there. The arrogance was strangely absent and his halted movements lacked his usual grace. Not caring what his punishment would be for his rudeness Spike blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Someone's stiffer than usual mate, and that's saying something." A harsh reply, a beating, a heavier workload, even taking away one of the few items of luxury he fully expected. Focused with these thoughts he completely missed the alarm that crossed Draculas' face.

"Unlike you I have matters of great importance to oversee." The darker one hissed out in retaliation. He had not known how to speak with Spike after his unsettling discovery. Insults seemed to flow easier than the idea of seducing.

"Yeah, can see that. Big man like you must have loads to do I'd wager." Spike said smiling sweetly. "Get up from your dirt, wash off in your poofy products, spend an hour or two with the girls doing your nails." He mimed wiggling his fingers. "'Nother hour to style your girly hair while you plot about another replacement bride that you'll "seduce" into your grasp." He snorted at this.

Not liking where this was going but curious of the meaning Dracula felt pressed to ask: "What are you implying?"

"Bit obvious ain't it? Only way you can get birds is to put them under trances otherwise they'd never give you the bleeding time of day."

The answer was not satisfactory to the Count and it bothered him on some level that Spike believed this. "I do NOT force my lovers to do anything they do not desire. I only bring those yearnings to the surface."

That was true to an extent, it varied with the types of trances. "Dru used to put her meals under the imfluence, so to speak, and they weren't the sort that "desired" to slit their own throats."

The level of venom in Spikes' voice was unanticipated, he had never heard the other speak so about Drusilla. Or was that suppose to be directed at him? At the kill? Or both? Just what he needed, yet another mystery of this stubborn vampire to uncover.

"I do not resort to such cheap means." Dracula retorted firmly.

"All you do is use these such "cheap means", like you did to the girls back in 1898. Think I forgot 'bout that one wanker? You made them both think that they were madly in love with you." His voice was dripped in such a disgusted tone that it made the elder feel as if it had been physical blow making him feel ill. "You charmed your way with them and tried to get them to stake each other after you got bored with them. Don Juan you're not mate. You couldn't charm a snake you puffed up poor excuse of a Romeo. A sodding disgrace to vampires everywhere s'wot you are."

"This is what you think of me?"

"Wot I said wasn't it?" Spike replied hotly.

"We shall see." Dracula challenged. Spike seemed confused by that comment, he wouldn't be for long. The conflict they had just had gave Dracula a new way to confront this issue head on without appearing foolish if the plan failed. He was determined that it would not, it could not. No matter how long it took he would have Spike.

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"This is how you wish to do this?" Anselina asked from her spot behind her paramour.

In an alcove hidden from sight was a prized procession of the Count that he rarely visited or showed to others. It was a full length mirror that he was given as a gift from an ally that had been charmed to allow the vampire view to see it's reflection. Dracula did not use it as regularly as one might have guessed. He did not want to become too connected with it in the likelihood that it would be taken from him. When you lived for eternity you came to recognize everything as short-lived. It helped if you didn't get attached though it was unlikely that you could remain that distant in all respects. The losses hurt but one had to move on. There was no other way for their kind to live.

"I am not one for idle waiting games nor hiding how I feel." He responded brushing his hair off his shoulders.

She only just stopped herself from groaning. He was nervous which being the man he was he of course he would deny it. Checking his fangs to make sure that they were clean, being unsure what to do with his hair and what to wear. The "date" was not something the other man knew about yet. When he was informed he would be brought to a private dinner where Dracula would reveal his intentions towards him. No one knew quite how Spike would take this news. Verona was making bets with whoever was interested that the two would brawl at dinner. Though she never said so herself Anselina felt that it was a safe bet.

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The invite to dinner was unanticipated, Spike just wanted to take a usual quick sip of pigs' blood and go to sleep. He had tried to shrug the idea of the dinner Madam Drake had informed him of as Dracula grandstanding. Something about it felt very unsettling more so when Anselina came by to tell him that it was a formal event. She brushed his arm telling him how much she'd loved to see him in one of the outfits she picked out for him. When he told her that he wasn't dressing up for just for the git's inflated ego least he be insulted by those he deemed unworthier than himself she looked disappointed. Always one to give in to the demands of lovely women he had reluctantly agreed.

The blue shirt was quickly disregarded as a choice since it was usually the color of choice when he wanted to impress someone. It brought out his eyes, made him seem less harsh or so he was told. In the old days he'd wear blue to clubs with Dru, then on dates with other women, a few times he had found himself wearing it for Angel and once the other vampire had said the color looked good on him. Not sure if that counted since they were drunk at the time and he had been covered in blue demons' blood.

Red in general was a color most vampires tended to favor, Dracula wore it practically every night, Drusilla, Darla and Angelus had all loved it. The shirt in question reminded Spike a little too much of the kind Angelus wore back in Sunnyhell. Angel must have associated the color with his alter ego too for he barely ever wore it. Spike placed it back not liking the reminder himself.

Basic black it was then. The clothes felt wonderful to wear and he was pretty sure that if he could see himself he'd be a right dish. His hair sadly would have to stay in the way it was troublesome curls and all. He had ran out of the product he had nicked to keep it slicked back. There was nothing to be done about it at this point and it wasn't like anyone would care. Anselina seemed to like how he looked and Spike didn't give a damn what Dracula thought.

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The ancient vampire had paced the dinning hall countless times before he heard the arrival of his guest of honor. His brides were nearby chattering in a relaxed atmosphere that had done nothing for his own nerves. They were there only for appearances sake and would leave shortly into the meal. He could tell that they all were thrilled with the idea of him and Spike.

Though they were prone to fits of jealousy they were easy to appease with attention and presents. In the moments that they were discontent they had been most outspoken on their desires for another male lover to join their ranks. Even though they knew well of the bitterness that had come from his past relationships.

He was pouring himself a glass of wine to calm himself when Spike chose that moment to make his entrance. Anselina had told him about the clothes she had made for Spike but she did not do them justice in her description. They were tailored made to suit Spikes' form highlighting his beauty. He would have preferred to see color but he could not deny the appeal of the dark material compared to his pale complexion. His natural hair color was more noticeable now, and the Count was pleased to see that the curls were present.

Spikes' demeanor had started out with a disinterested glance before the mask slipped to reveal the shock at the decoration. Reading up on Spikes' backround Dracula had found out when the other vampire had been turned and had his dinning hall dressed in the proper Victorian pieces. Sadly he had only kept a few things from that era only havinging a few pieces of furniture, painting and party decorations that a now deceased bride had adored.

"Sit down Spike and join us for dinner."


	18. Chapter 18

**Silvermane1:** Thanks.

**Housaholic32:** Thank you, that was one of the things I worry about when I write. Dracula is a little off his game considering who he is trying to seduce.

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The women present exchanged meaningful glances with each other as they glided to the table. Spike was still confused on what was happening when they reached their seats. Dracula helped a couple with their chairs and the rest declined help as they were far too enthralled with what the evening had in store to care about manners. When Spike saw that his options in seating arrangements were fast becoming limited he made a step in the direction of the chair with the most distances between Dracula and himself. He didn''t get more than that one step before it was occupied by a smirking bride. With no other choice he was forced to sit at the host left.

Sitting across and two chairs down was Anselina who smiled fondly at him. About to ask her what the hell was going on Spike was startled by something brushing his foot. The red head seated at Draculas' right was whispering to her love though he didn't seem to be as pleased with what she was saying as she was. Spike had just written off the foot thing as an accident when he felt something slid up his leg. The foot shifted into a more inmate place causing him to jump back in surprise.

This did not escape the Counts' notice as he caught on fast hissing Romanian to the woman he was speaking to giving Spike the impression that he was none too pleased. She pouted looking at both him and her master replying in what sounded like a regretful tone. Her demeanor changed when she rose as she cast him a predatory smile.

His attention was drawn to the gossiping brides who were gigging every few seconds. He pieced together words like "can not wait", "union" and "quite handsome." The longer he sat there the more it felt like a set up. Not that he had much choice in the matter. The butler brought the meal in giving each vampire at the table two goblets one filled with wine the other with blood. When the man reached Spike he asked if wanted to try something different tonight. Knowing he meant human blood he refused.

If the drinks were poisoned like he had suspected why go to all of the trouble of bringing him there. Very few poisons did anything serious to a vampire in the first place. Were they rubbing in the fact that they could drink human blood? Then again he was offered. Was it Dracula showing off that he had all these women to bed while Spike had no one? It was petty but at this stage he wouldn't put anything past the git.

Most of the brides were sipping their drinks when he was still eyeing his distrustfully. About to take a cautious sip his thigh was stroked before he could even get to the goblet. The woman to his left winked at him moving her hand to his hip, slowly moving it over...

"Aleera!" Dracula bellowed. He snapped at her in Romanian telling her and the rest of the brides to leave. That much Spike could understand. He had no idea why they couldn't keep their hands off of him that night. To piss off Mr. Silky hair? Likely. Spike just added it to the growing number of questions.

Looking up from his drinks he found that the dark lord was studying him. He had felt those eyes on him most of the time tonight, and maybe even longer than that. Having prided himself on his ability to read people Spike was totally baffled by his long time enemy. The behavior made no sense to him, just once had the two men been in a room together without fighting during their short term alliance to plot a way to save their girls from the Nazis. Now there they were alone once more with Spike still feeling like a late comer and Dracula waiting to spring unpleasant news to him. What if Dru was dead? He wasn't ready for that, he didn't think he ever would be. Hearing from a gloating enemy would make it worse.

"You have not touched your meal." Dracula helpful pointed out during Spikes' panic attack.

"There some hurry? Can't wait to poison me, eh?"

"You make it exceedingly difficult." The older one muttered. "I am attempting to have a civilized conversation with you for once and you are treating it as torture!"

"Who said it wasn't? 'Sides it's hard not to with our history, mate." Spike banged his wrists together to illustrate his point as the metal bands hidden underneath the sleeves clanked.

"Perhaps it is too much to take in at once. I am having trouble with the concept myself."

"Wot are you on about?"

Dracula sighed rising from his seat to pace, which in it's self was surreal to Spike. Was he nervous? That thought triggered something in his mind as Spike made a mental list of the odd events. The brides were forced to leave the two of them alone, then why were they there in the first place. A memory of hanging out with Joyce and Dawn suddenly appeared...

"The truth is William, that despite our many differences things have changed between us. I did not want to feel as I do but these things can not be helped--"

...The hall was decorated in Victorian fashion--the box of candies he never had the nerve to give Buffy. Offering the meal like he had offered a drink to her when they were hunting vampires. Dressing up and making sure Spike had too. If he didn't know better than he'd think Dracula was trying to impress a bint.

Bloody hell, I'm the bint! Spike thought his eyes widening in dismay. No that could not be true, it was impossible. There was absolutely no way that Dracula, his immortal enemy, had feelings about him. No, Spike had just read too much into it, that's all.

"--It proved futile to deny these feelings no matter how much I wished to, the truth is that I have come to c--"

"You're a poof?" Spike squeaked out still clearly shocked. "I mean I knew you were a poof, just not...a poof!"

"What? I am not--you are being cruder than usual Spike. I am attempting to tell you something of great importance and you make a mockery out of it."

"This has to be some sick joke. It is right?" He asked his voice coming just short of hysteria.

"Yes and it seemed to be on me. I should have known better than to expect a crass tasteless being such as you to be reasoned with in a courteous manner!"

"Wot the hell are you thinking? Are you daft?" The blond exclaimed. "How did this--,"he motioned to the two of them, "ever seem like a good idea inside that peach pit you call a brain? We hate each other, we're archenemies and all that rot!" Did you act any different with the slayer, a helpful thought asked. He didn't have too much trouble dismissing it as he was completely appalled by what was happening.

Everything had been just moonbeams and puppies before he found out that Count Hard-on had a thing for him. Hell, the harsher treatments he could handle, a cozy dinner with these absurd sudden feelings from his foe he could not. Grabbing the wine goblet he downed it in one go.

"I mean really what if anything does this change? We still hate each other! Are you just going to forget about your vendetta against us, or get these damn bracelets off?"

"Would you be interested if I agreed?" Dracula countered.

The implication and that haughty tone was too much for Spike to bear. Reeling from the humiliation, the confession and the unfairness of his life in general he lashed out on instinct. His right fist slammed into Draculas' face drawing blood. Not heeding the burning of the bands he went to strike again when his wrist was grabbed mid-air.

"You bastard! You think that there's anything you could offer me that could get me to willing touch you? I'm NO one's whore!"

Furious as the Count was he attempted to maintain control over his emotions. His face however betrayed his stormy mood as he reached for his handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face while he held Spikes' wrist firmly his other hand.

"Do you think that I am doing this for my own amusement? I am the lord of vampires, the elite of our kind and I have to deal with these unwanted regards towards you. I want them gone, I do not want to think of you! I wish to be rid of it! Do you honestly think that I am pleased to be affected by such a lowly, vulgar, debase creature like you?"

"I'm the dirt that you like to roll in, that what you're saying? If these are the sort of lines you use pillock I'm not surprised that you need to work your voodoo to get laid." Spike frowned pondering that. "Is that wot this is 'bout? You trying to make your little point and me being your Guiana pig? Well if that's it then lay off, I ain't interested."

"You dare to presume--"

"Oh I most certainly do. I've been here less than half an hour and all you've done is treat me like shit. Really who professes how they feel and tells you how unworthy they think you are of them? Implies that you sell yourself off to them and be glad when you're gone? I'm not saying that it would have changed me choice even if you acted with these so-called manners you keep claiming you have. 'Cuz I wouldn't. But it sure as hell would have proved that you had at least a pint of class that you keep saying I'm lacking."

A vein throbbed on Draculas' jaw that at another time and place he would have prided himself in. Not now when he was shaking with rage himself. "You have said enough, I will hear no more of this tonight." Dracula proclaimed regally. "We will discuss this further tomorrow."

"There is nothing else to talk about prat, now let go!"

Seeing that the other vampire was moving to hit him with his free hand Dracula twisted the arm and grabbed the other wrist forcing Spike against the wall. With both wrists trapped Spike was stuck unable to move between the wall and the dark vampire.

"I disagree."

Struggling against Dracula proved harder than he thought. He had nothing to use to his advantage and a rival that blocked his every move. Glaring daggers at the Count he was unprepared for the unguarded soft looks he was receiving. They were tender and affectionate, the kind that he was not used to seeing directed at him. The dark eyes dropped to stare at his mouth making him return to his squirming. It was unsettling, more so when he was released a second later when Dracula gingerly brushed a lock of hair from Spikes' face.

"We have much to discuss and you have given me much to think on. I will not give up on you yet." He murmured silkily.

For a terrible uncertain moment Spike feared that he was going to be kissed as Dracula lingered over Spikes' mouth. Slowly he shifted position until he hovered next to the blonds' ear. "Until tomorrow I bid you good night." Dracula whispered his lips brushing the shell of his ear. The next moment he was gone and an escort to Spikes' chambers was there to take him back upstairs.

Feeling weary Spike had slipped out of his clothes and into bed right away. He could not fall asleep however as his mind was racing with the events of the meal. It was insane, that's what it was. The idea that Dracula, his long bitter foe fancied him. Why did it have to be him? Of all the people that could feel anything for Spike it had to be someone else who hated him.

It felt bizarre to have someone pursue him for a change. It was William who had watched Cecily from afar hoping one day that she would notice him. Drusilla had found him yet it was always him that did the grand romantic gestures that she only half noticed in her mad way. He had chased after Buffy far too much, always ending with disappointment and hurt. With Angel it had just happened, neither one of them had gone out of their way to seduce the other.

Afterwards Spike had been the only one who wanted to foolishly try for more. No one had ever been able to give Spike what he craved, not the way he wanted it to be. Just a body for them to use as they pleased for their own pleasures. Who wanted to deal with Spikes' feelings?


	19. Chapter 19

**Tanya Potter:** Dracula will try his best, he's not known for giving up without a fight. ;)

**Nika Dawson:** Glad you found it again. Hope you enjoy the chapters to come.

**Housaholic32:** Thank you. Really? Well I'm not sure where this story is going. Don't get me wrong I have the ending planned out, the trouble is that I have three different endings and I haven't decided which one yet. ;)

**Brandy: **You want to see Spike and Dracula together? We'll see, but at the moment Spike is very much opposed to that idea.

**Shivera: **Spike might have made himself clear but Dracula is not one to simply back down from a challenge.

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Following the limo hadn't been much of a challenge. Most of the equipment the council used had tacking devices built in for cases like this. Roger had made it clear that he only wanted his elite team to handle the situation leaving a bulk of watchers and slayers to deal with the fire. Carey and Jane were to go a different route to provide back up should the situation warrant it. It came as little surprise when the limo was soon ditched as Faith must have known about the car.

"What's the story with Mr.Pryces' team?" Jane asked suddenly.

"The trio?" At the nod Carey shrugged. "Not much to tell, Sarah and the others are untraceable."

"Like that mob movie?"

"That's Untouchables, Jane, and I don't know. Maybe. You notice how they only answer to their first names? I'm not even sure if those are their real names but no one can find out who they were. They're cut off from their past, trained better than most of the girls in all sorts of areas. They do things that the rest of us don't hear about. My guess is a kind of wet work team, black Ops and all that."

She could tell that Jane wanted to ask about what "wet work" meant but didn't dare voice it. The other woman was more naive than herself about the way the world worked. "Does Mr. Giles know about them?"

"Yeah, don't know if he knows who they were but he knows what they are. I've seen him go into meetings with them before. He may talk about how much he trust Summers and us to fight the bad guys but he's realistic."

Adjusting her earpiece Carey looked over their supplies that the van had been loaded up with. Holy Water, stakes, axes, swords, high tech gadgets, first aid, a lap top, and food that they would need if this turned out to be a long trip. It had been prepared like this ever since she arrived, Carey was a firm believer in being ready for any occurrence.

Her watcher doubted this would be easy with the vampire, the girl who could be a potential slayer, Faith and the boy. There mission was to stop all of them before they crossed into Romania, Roger wanted the vampire alive for now but that could and would most likely change. The others were listed P.H. (Potential Hazards) which would be dealt with by what ever means they felt was needed and Faith had gone rogue. Again. Carey figured that she should have been pissed at the betrayal, probably would be later, but didn't much care at the moment. Orders were given and had to be carried out.

Jane was not able to shut down her emotions in a crisis as well as her friend. Having no siblings she came to regard all the slayers like sisters even the ones she didn't like. Having one leave the family to help the enemy was making her uncomfortable. She'd squirmed in her seat biting her lip and nails when she thought Carey wasn't looking.

"It will be okay." Carey said squeezing Janes' shoulder. She wasn't really what you called a comfort person, wasn't much for hugs or such. She tried though knowing that Jane was the touchy sort.

"I suppose your right," Jane smiled back gratefully, "I just need to have faith--umm--well you know what I meant."

Their friendship was peculiar, they had little in common and very different mannerisms. Jane was shy where she was free-spoken. The other girl dated at ease with men while Carey had only had one date that scared her from the dating scene. She had little belief in god while Jane was devoted to the point where she came across a bit preachy. Jane was a health nut carrying around reduced fat, low salt, soy type of products. Though Carey didn't mind all of them that much she preferred to eat things with more flavor.

It was mainly a supportive relationship, the first real friend that either girl had among the other slayers. They trust one another and had each others' back when no one else would.

Glancing at the time Carey reached into the cup holder for her bottled water and opened up the glove compartment. Inside where two containers filled with two different sets of pills. One was marked with a yellow highlighter while the other was with a blue one. Her brow furrowed as she studied both before she took the yellow one. Taking off the cap she took a small capsule and downed it with the water. It was going to be a long trip, she just knew it.

"We have visual and are pursing. Requesting back up." Sarahs' voice came from over the headset.

"Request denied. You are to engage the run aways, if you are unable to deal with them--which with your training you should be able to--then you may request back up. Is this clear Sarah?" Roger asked in his no-nonsense voice.

"Yes, sir."

The line went silent again and the girls in the van waited to be of use.

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Emotions were a problematic aspect of human life, if not the most problematic. Illyria did not understand it and it infuriated her. In confusion she was suppose to have her guide explain these meaningless yet powerful sensations. Her guide in Wesley was gone now leaving her with her pet Spike but with his absence she found herself without any to turn to, none who's judgement she trusted. Wesley and Spike were bluntly truthful in most respects.

Angel, the fallen king with no kingdom and few depleted subjects to rule over did not respect her. He had a great disdain for the god-king never forgetting that she only lived because of Freds' death. She was merely a tool to use in his eyes, he beared no affection and no loyalty to her. Illyria could recall all too well how the vampire wanted her to die.

Wesley had similar reactions yet he harbored feelings for the shell and fascination in her. In return Illyria could not help but feel what she thought affection must have been for humans. She would never know what could have been now and that nagged at her though she knew the thought was pointless.

She liked making Spike cry out in there training sessions, he was pleasing to the eyes and ears. He was most vexing as he presented an mystery to Illyria. A true predator yet he felt these emotions so strongly that he could be completely overtaken by them in a way that was all too human. Spike did not see her with the same eyes as Wesley and Angel, to him she could never be Fred nor could she entirely be blamed for the death. Still he needed more training to be a proper pet.

Angels' scion Connor was uneasy around her, from her memories of Winifred Burkle she could deduce a connection. For the most part he was obedient which she approved of though much like Spike (and indeed the world) he needed more training to be a true disciple of the god-king.

The slayer Faith Lehane was a curious element, unpredictable and undisciplined. She had made herself a traitor to her people, a concept that Illyria could relate to in other circumstances. She could not fathom what Faith hoped to achieve by allying herself with a smaller force when she could have reclaimed the throne. The slayer had radiated with this growing concern like a small flame building up on a pyre until she had finally acted. Now that concern was coupled with dread, regret, and a deep pain that Illyria did not wish to examine further. She did not like feeling that consuming hurt, it served no purpose and made you weak.

The young woman was not the only one whose emotions Illyria had watched. Spike had said that if you could master a understanding of human emotions then you could truly know humans. She had many growing questions that had been withheld. Wesley had said as a watcher he learned about unknown creatures through observing them.

"Questions are an important part of learning Illyria, there are however other avenues in education. Some things can't be explained in words. They must be witnessed and discovered without assistance."

Thus she had withheld her inquiries to the best of her ability to attempt to make sense from the puzzle. Connor was the easiest to comprehend, he did not hide how he felt and his emotions were mainly focused on his father. Worried for his condition, a little confusion, respect and a gnawing elusive emotion that she could not name.

The half breed Angel was simply put an emotional mess. Conflicts were at war within, anger, sorrow, and dozens of other feelings stirred and fought for control. He reminded her of the water. Many people came to believe if the surface was still that all was peaceful and calm. If you traveled farther you could see undersea volcanos, unknown life forms, and many other neglected things. The water covered all of this hiding the wonders, the obscure and the peril from prying eyes.

Her own feelings were expected, she had grown accustomed to them even if she had not welcomed them. Fury for what was taken from her, loss at her absent pet and though she would not accept it a little fear. Illyria missed her pets' joy of combat, the satisfying grunts of pain he would cry out when hurt, the tone of his voice and the visually pleasing picture he presented.

"We have to shake them and catch a ride. We can get more supplies when we cut across--"

Angel was telling them the plan assuming the role of leader, again. She found that she did not care much for his presumption to order her but with no idea how to find Spike she was left with little choice. It did give her the chance to ponder these conflicting emotions.

The air shifted subtly, the displacement like a ripple in the water alerting her to the dangers the others hadn't sensed. Narrowing her eyes Illyria could see movement in the shadows to the right and left. To human ears it was deadly silent apart from the sounds of distance cars rushing pass. To Illyria the sounds became as blaring as a trumpet. Her companions were busy bickering about options, the slayer pre-emptying strategies, the boy offering vague suggestions and the fallen-kings' raising frustrations.

How they had survived for this long the god-king could not conceive. She would make certain that they all made it out of this predicament despite their best efforts to get them all killed. Besides Illyria had long learned that venting these inconvenient alien sentiments was best handled in the physical sense. Slipping away without a word she retreated back into the shadows moving more stealthily than any human could.

"Target alpha in sight. Orders?" A woman draped in black asked over an earpiece.

Cocking her head to the side the demon watched the slayer finger a long firearm with one hand and grip a strange metal device in the other.

The earpiece screeched that horrible electric babble and the woman released the device. She made to lift the gun when she suddenly turned and fired at Illyria. Moving her body sightly to the left the shot, a dart, missed it's target. Still dressed as the shell the movement must have seemed odd even to the slayer as her eyes widened in alarm. The barrel of the gun was lifted for another shot when it was kicked out of her grip firing upwards in the process.

Not pausing the attacker punched out hitting Illyria directly in the face throwing the demon back a few feet. She simply gazed back emotionlessly backhanding the slayer the ground. Using the momentum the woman flipped herself upwards delivering a kick to the right knee.

"Traitor! You and Faith are helping a monster! Betraying your own kind!" She hissed hitting the image of Fred with a relentless barge of hits that would surely cripple a lesser foe. Staring impassively back at the woman Illyrias' brown eyes changed to an unnatural blue. Striking the enemy sharply in the face she glared at the woman who now was lying on the payment ready to renew their fight.

"You are where your natural place is, at my feet. How dare you assume that I am on of your kind. I am beyond your repellent, parochial breed! Know this slayer," blue hues bleed through her hair and skin, "I am the god-kind Illyira. I once commanded the very flames from flickers to full forms of illumination." The floral print dress' texture hardened, the colors darkening. "I split the earth to imprison my rivals. Get used to your position slayer for I will be your future ruler."


	20. Chapter 20

**Housaholic32: **I'm glad someone finally asked about the Angel chapter, I was beginning to think no one noticed that. Yes there will be an Angel POV chapter very soon, I held it back because I felt Angel would bottle how he feels up for awhile. You're not the first one to say that, I had someone else write me and tell me what was going to happen, lol. So what do you want to happen? I'm not promising anything but I'm curious.

**Silvermane1:** Thanks!

**Adjovi:** Thanks. :D Believe me I never cared for Dracula until I read the comic series so I get where you're coming from. Emotions aren't really Angel's strong point which you'll see more of in the Angel POV chapter.

**Karone Evertree:** Thank you, I will promise you when we get to the Angel POV you'll get to see some spangel. I haven't forgotten it.

**Shivera:** No Illyria does not mean that she was going to take over the slayers. Although she (and I) have no plans at the time being Illyria still believes that someday after she understands human nature and her place in the world that she will rule it. She was also being confident and letting the slayer know in her own way that she's going to kick some ass.

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"Sounds like Illyria is at it again." Angel grumbled.

Connor knew his dad wasn't truly upset with her though neither was he. It was nice to know that one of them could keep focused. Almost blending in the darkness the two female forms were locked in a fierce battle. There was no telling who was who from what he could see.

He didn't believe for a second that this slayer was the only one too follow them. Roger would never be careless enough to allow for such a thing or sloppy enough to draw unwanted attention with a large force. He may not know Roger but he had know Wesley enough to know that these watchers were prepared to do just about anything for their causes.

If he was as much like Holtz as he believed than nothing short of death would stop him in completely his goal. Somehow though Connor didn't see this man as the type to be willing to die for his mission. Why would he when he had slayers to do so for him?

A faint click sounded not long after the shot near Illyria, this one however came from a different location. A muted bang of a rifle rang out to their right and the three of them rolled away at once in a blur of motion. Still caught in her roll Connor caught Faith slipping her hand to her ankle from the corner of his eye. A second later he understood why as she flung her dagger past him. It found it's mark in the right shoulder of the shooter. The woman cried out reaching out to take the knife from her wound. The vest she wore had protected her for the most part except for the point where the tip of the blade had pressed into her flesh. It was a small weakness that Faith had exploited giving her the edge that she pressed for all that it was worth.

She advanced on the woman, Angel and him went to follow when they were knocked flat on their backs with a resounding crack. Dazed Connor saw the slayer garbed in a similar clothes land in a in a graceful arc onto her feet. Angel was up first aiming hits on her upper body that she effortlessly blocked. She went on the offensive going lower to unbalance him. The vampire saw her moves and held his own. Connor hesitated glancing at each of them paired off with a slayer.

His father was neither winning nor losing, Faith had the upper had at the moment and Illyria was either losing or toying with her foe. Shrugging he joined his father.  
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Dodging Faith came back kicking, jabbing and punching like a wild animal. She always had a wild style that Wesley had said was, "like an alley cat, unpredictable, utterly undisciplined, vicious and twice as sloppy." She had answered with her own cutting remark about him never knowing how to handle anything he couldn't control. And something about how he should use that stick up his ass.

The slayers they were facing had a district yet similar style to each other. They were passionless which could either be a weakness or a strong point. She was quickly learning the strong point as the woman she was facing wasn't prone to give into fancy movements. The discipline had given her patience to wait for openings using quick simpler techniques to get the job done. Faith felt a pang of regret when she noticed the skill was the same one that Wesley tried to teach her back in Sunndale. She could hear her words back then coming back to mock her. "Like I'm ever going to need to know this shit. I'll just wing it man. It works for me so why mess with success?"

And what success she was having. Her earlier advantage had worn off and she was now just struggling to hold her own. Anger from her choice, Angel's treatment and the general unfairness was fueling Faith making her more reckless.

Trying to go hit the womans' stomach to send her off balance backfired as her fist was grabbed tightly and twisted back. Faith had no choice than to follow the direction her limb was being pull towards. The other option have having her arm broken was not going to happen if she had anything to say about it. She had no doubt it would have been if she didn't comply.

Her action lead to a follow through kick to her knees and a ear ringing punch to the face. Not letting the blow keep her from defending herself Faith used her kneeling position to pull the other slayer down and using her legs make the momentum take the woman airborne. Her enemy was sent near a steel lamp poll but instead of crashing into it she caught it and reversed herself to be flung back at Faith.

"Well Shit." Faith muttered just a second before the booted shoes of the elite slayer found it's mark.

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Illyria was bored. She had amused herself by letting the slayer display her abilities, holding herself back to watch the furious attacks of her foe. That had been of little interest after the first few minutes. The identical clothes the slayers wore were thought on next, wondering the purpose of this conformity when these creatures claimed to be individuals. Another illusion humans gave into then. A group of birds chirpped nearby and as she suspected they were the breed she had assumed by their call alone. They bathed themselves in pools of water in the indentation of the pavement. Mating and singing the songs of their kind. If made Illyria miss the songs of the green.

Recalling her lost talent for conversing with the green she stared longingly at the blades of grass moving with the flow of the wind. Surely they would find a topic to bring her out of her boredom. The green was very observant.

"This is the best you can do? Yeah, you're my "ruler" freak!" The gnat-like slayer taunted.

No longer caring about what skills the child may have had in combat Illyria blocked the oncoming blows vaguely aware of them. She watched the others battle noting that the fallen-king and his heir were faring well. The slayer Faith was not. Noting her own sparing partner was grunting in frustration Illyria knew that she could not fane interest any more.

"I grow weary of this pathetic melee." She regally informed Angel.

"Yeah, well do something about it then." The vampire called back.

Frowning the god-king pondered the meaning of these words and grabbed her opponent tossing the outraged slayer at the nearly defeated one by Angel.

The instant they hit the woman Faith was fighting shot something from her wrists that came out with a small almost unnoticeable sound. A tiny dart whirled out barely missing the vampire as the boy pushed him to the side. The dart hit the youth in the shoulder. Faith had stunned her foe by this time and rushed to join the others. Illyria did likewise pleased that the battle had concluded yet strangely bothered by Connors' stillness.

"He is..." Faith's question lingered in the air unwilling to complete it.

"He's just knocked out." Angel said with obvious relief. "His pulse is still strong and I know the smell of poison. We have to get out of here, now."

Lifting his child Angel lead the way out through the sewers. He reminded Illyria with some hesitation that she should return to the shells' appearance to make sure that she would not draw attention later.

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It had taken Carey twenty minutes to find her fellow slayers positions. From what she had gathered the vampire had damaged Alisons' tracking device which had gone out at least twenty-five minutes ago. From their reports Sarah had taken on the fake slayer who appeared to be a demon of some type. Michelle had taken on their rogue slayer while Alison had faced the vampire and the young man. Her watcher was not pleased with their lack of progress. Carey felt sorry for the girls but refused to dwell on it.

"You could not handle one vampire and a human boy?" Roger asked Alison incredulously.

"The boy was not normal sir. He was stronger than any human I ever spared with." She reported.

Roger filed that bit of information away for later, it could be useful. Angelus seemed be favoring demon company these days. Perhaps with the losses of his human employees the creature thought that fellow demons would serve his purpose better. "At least one of you was able to handle yourself." He muttered. Michelles' expression didn't change but her shoulders slightly relaxed.

"As for you Sarah, I am deeply displeased with your performance in the field." Flipping the back of his van open Roger waited her impatiently. "Your line was open despite my orders to retain radio silence during your encounter. This allowed me to hear your second mistake. You engaged your opponent in pointless taunts that distracted you. I've told you that emotions and idle chattering not only are worthless in a battle they distract you more than the enemy. I'm sure Ms. Summers finds her oh-so funny America pop culture quips and the sound of her own voice to be exceedingly amusing. I however do not."

Sarah paled slowly approaching him. Michelle and Alison tensed but did nothing to aid her. Jane turned to Carey for answers only to find the other girl sitting back in her own van staring in a different direction.

"I think it is time to rectify this problem since it is troubling you so much."

Casting one last glance at them Sarah went inside with her head bowed. Roger followed shortly after her snapping on a pair of gloves and slamming the doors shut behind him. If they heard a muted scream no one reacted. Uncapping the yellow highlighted bottle Carey took out another pill. They couldn't afford to make any more mistakes.

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"This isn't bothering you?" Faith had to ask. Beating up people to take their train tickets wasn't the type of thing she could see Angel doing guilt free. Yet all he did was shrug it off and help Connor onboard. Faith and Illyria followed, the latter babbling about how trains worked. No matter how much they hung together Faith didn't think she would ever get used to the way Illyria would flip personlaities like that. Judging by Angels' tense body language she hazarded a guess that it was no pinic for him either.

Locking the door to their compartment and covering the windows up she waited to hear what the great plan was. Angel didn't disappoint. "We just need to stay on this train until it arrives in Italy. From there we'll go pay a visit to an old friend of mine who owes me a favor."

"And...?"

"And he'll handle things from there." The vampire answered simply. The train started covering their silence with sounds of the engine and the tracks underneath them. Connor shifted in his sleep almost cuddling up to the champion causing Faith to snicker. Angel far from off put smiled faintly ruffling the youths' hair. She'd have to ask about their closeness sometime because something was not adding up there.

"I wish to speak to..." The god-king frowned as if trying to recall the correct term. "..."pass the time." "

"What do you want to ask?" The vampire responded in a bored voice.

"I have been watching the Animal planet network as Spike suggested. I demand to know the difference between insect intercourse and human sexual activities." She looked expectantly at the flabbergasted souled demon.

"Now that's what I call passing the time." Faith comment with a smirk. "Anything specific you'd like to know, blue? Like positions..."

"Faith!"

"What? The girl has a right to know, got to expand her education and all that."

"Does your species eat the males after the act of mating?" Illyria inquired.

"Well..."

"FAITH!"


	21. Chapter 21

**Silvermane1:** Thanks!

**Adjovi:** Thank you, Roger believe in strict measures to ensure better performance. The girls are lucky that they weren't raised by him but being trained by him wasn't much better. In answer to your question, no Faith does not know that Connor is Angel's son. And the Angel POV is this chapter.

**Housabholic32:** I'd imagine Illyria would have many questions that Faith would find amusing. ;) Thanks.

Oh I was just curious. Well we'll see what happens I guess.

**Karone Evertree:** Thanks, I'm not too fond of writing them so I'm never too sure how they read for other people. You'll see what he did when I get back to the slayers. He sees it more as a punishment/lesson than torture. And I wouldn't say that their entirely "messed up" they just have different beliefs from Buffy. Granted more intense but with the exception of their treatment from Roger they usually are able to handle themselves quite well mentally and physcially.

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_Hearts are not to be had as a gift  
hearts are to be earned...  
by William Butler Yeats  
_  
Illyria had given him curious glances all throughout her talk to Faith. Angel had a nagging feeling that what the god-king wanted to ask about mating with species was more about human vs. vampire sex. Or female/male vs. male/male. He recalled her past mutterings of prey mantis so she had to have known. Leaning against the cushioned seat Angel closed his eyes and for the first time in ages let himself go over the events that had occurred between Spike and himself.

It was a mistake one Angel deeply regretted. He never would have gone through with it if he was of sound mind. Not that he had ever been entirely sane with Spike around, especially lately. Things had never been easy for Angel, and he had felt the lost of his friends profoundly. Afterwards having the others around, fighting evil, they were all distractions for him. The other souled vampire…was something else. Something he could not name.

Was it the fact that they shared the same bloodline, similar past or the souls that made the difference? For whatever the reason their working relationship had altered along the way. He doubted Spike knew when it had occurred Angel himself had been startled when he had discovered it. Illyria had been going through CDs listening to the music completely baffled by some of the lyrics. (Though she seemed to understand some message behind "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" with perfect clarity.)

Spike had attempted to explain music to her even though he had no idea what the hell "the songs of the green" sounded like. He even told a story about meeting the Beatles with Drusilla before the band broke up. Angel found himself amused by not only the story of Yoko Ono singing with Dru but also the way Spikes' face scrunched up to express his thoughts on that "music." The blonds' hand weaved back and forth telling the tale animatedly. He went on about how the songs were more about the feelings behind it than the words, it was an expression of one's heart.

Something about Spikes' speech clicked and Angel found himself fascinated with the vampire before him. At first he had figured that the blonds' soul didn't affect him like his did. Then came the Dana incident and the masks finally fell away. There before him was the soul shining so brightly it was blinding. It was pure William speaking with such passion and longing that Angel felt stunned…among other things.

The attraction only grew stronger in time with an intensity that unbalanced him. He was lusting after Spike of all people. It wasn't right to be overwhelmed by the others' presence. To have his dreams taken over by images that made him restlessly longing for something he dared not name.

Angel had been spellbound when their conversation one day turned towards discussion of Spikes' soul. Such opened honesty threw him through a loop and he unbelievably felt proud of the younger vampire. Though disappointed to have such a riveting tale go uncompleted he found himself unwilling to ask to hear more. Not if it made these unnatural feelings of his pop up again. It wasn't the fact that Spike was a man that unnerved him as much as it was who the man was. How could he, Angel, feel such a strong need for Spike?

Still guilt nagged at him that he should be honest in return and so the subject of Connor was opened. There was an argument, which was so familiar that Angel found it relieving. Sure he was annoyed at the claims that he had done nothing to deserve his rewards even though a small part of him silently agreed. Connor visited soon after and the disagreement was forgotten. His son and Spike got along well, causing jokes at his expense or testing each other in the basement/training room. Angel wanted to pout about it jealous of the ease the two conversed but he found himself extremely pleased by the results for some strange reason.

The fascination in his rival was going strong when he watched Spike fighting during their battle with the Ka'trow demons. That made it all too easy to explain away what happened next from the drinking that occurred in celebration. Angel had dragged the blond up to the attic, having a strong need to share and brag about his drawings. They had their own little pissing contest to see who could render the most life like etching of the other. Though he expected that the teasing was all in fun Angels' ego hoped that Spike wouldn't actually attempt to take up three pages for his forehead.

The puppet sketch made him feel grumpy as a tiny part of him had hoped to be drawn more appealing nature though he knew of the unlikelihood. Personally he didn't see what was so adorable about the puppet that had everyone cooing over him. Spike claimed that it was cute unlike the real him. But damn it he knew he was cute! Cordelia had called him a care bear with fangs—not that he would admit that out loud.

The brunette ordered the other to recline on the sofa as he was now the model. He was determined to make the Spike pay with his little taunt, maybe by making a puppet version of him. All thoughts completely left him however when he took in the vision before him. There was Spike lying back uncomfortably running his hand unconsciously through his now curly hair. He was gorgeous in a way that no being outside flights of fancy should have been. Gone was the mask of irritation and toughness to reveal a fidgety poet. Muscles lean and toned to perfection made the artist in him cry out in appreciation. It made the man in him want to trace over the firmness with his own hands. So damn beautiful.

Spikes' eyes unfocused thinking of some other thing, not him. It wouldn't do though, Angel had to have Spike focusing on him and only him. Orders were roughly given for the blond to look up at him through a strangely dry throat. Two rapidly darkening sapphire orbs blinked up at him holding him captive like a deer caught in a headlight beam. He found that he liked seeing the bleach blond like this. Never had those impenetrable walls been lowered enough to give Angel a glimpse of the man inside. The lines on the paper could never compare to what he saw but he still attempted to capture it.

Each line was given life after his eyes stroked sensually down that ravishing body holding Angel entralled. In that moment he could not deny the feeling that pulsed between them for ages now. He was dimly aware of the musky scent of male arousal bringing then tension up another notch. Much like a twig being twisted in two different directions something had to give under the pressure until the inevitable happened. In this case Angel's defenses snapped given into his instincts. He watched as a wide eyed Spike tracked his movements and let him see the man Angel had finally found.

Spike seemed embarrassed to have himself found out so completely and Angel wondered if he'd lash out with violence in an attempt to bury William again. When their eyes met however he knew that the smaller vampire would not be running away from him tonight. The brunette reached out to touch him gently for the first time, to feel the smoothness of his jaw and guide their lips together. Things were a bit of a blur as they somehow managed to get down to Spike's room through a shower of kisses. There was no great rush as they slipped clothes from their bodies to join together on the bed. It had felt natural, without awkwardness of who does what and where.

Angel had shared tenderness with other lovers, Buffy first through their one real night together that ended in disaster and then the day that never happened. He had dreamed of it with Cordelia knowing in his heart that had it really occurred it would have been just as loving. With Nina it had been gentle but lacked the emotional connection of the other two women. With Spike then it was intense sparking passion that he had thought had died. The difference between being with a man after years of being with women hadn't been a problem like he would have assumed. Angelus had been with his share of men for varies reasons, humiliation, boredom, to get Darla excited, and it had been easy to ease back into the act. There were no issues for dominance for once with them. They shared the roles without having to speak a word.

Spike was so beautiful that Angel could not take his eyes off him if he wanted to, all he did want was to watch his reactions. There they all were bared before him spurring him on to want more. How could he have known someone and not known them so long? It was a mystery to him.

After wearing themselves out the pair collapsed in a sweaty pile of limbs and fell into a dreamless slumber. When Angel woke he thought vaguely how his walls weren't painted this color. The next thing he noted was the additional weight in his arms of another body curled against his. Slowly like the way one would back away from a deadly snake Angel lifted his gaze to the sprawled figure. The smell of the activities filled his senses making him dizzy with it's potency. There was Spike in all his glory with his hair tousled that somehow managed to be both messy and sexy. Angel blinked. He had sex. He had sex with Spike! Together!

Panic ran through his body at these thoughts, Angel had liked the friendship he had with Spike now. He didn't want it to become anything more, he may have lusted after the bleach blond but he knew that he wasn't in love with him. Nor did he want to have the chance to do so. First of all this was Spike hence it would be doomed to fail before it even started. Second of all Angel didn't want to be in any relationship. With Buffy it had been the first time either of them had been in love, they were naive and saw things through rose colored glasses. Even without Angelus it never would have lasted long in the real world. Now they had too much baggage that they never solved, too many changes and secrets from each other. They were completely different from their lovestruck counterparts.

Cordelia and him had been friends first, she was his best friend getting him to open up about anything. She was more direct than Buffy and if he was honest more accepting. She didn't scrunch up her face when she handed him his blood she actually tried to flavor it. They'd joke about his past and Cordy would ask to hear more of his soulless stories knowing full well that he could have done unspeakable acts but needed to know what happened.

She never flinched with him and was the first to hug him. Buffy may have inspired him to be a hero but Cordelia made him a man. He had started to fall for her just before Buffys' second death and later fell deeply in love with her. She had loved him too but outsiders kept coming between them never allowing them to be together. Her last day on earth had been for him and her. Angel knew that she didn't want him to wallow in regret or misery. How many times had she told him to get his head out of his ass? Or when she told him that by going on he was honoring Buffy when she died? Which meant that Cordy wanted him to honor her by moving on too? Right?

Nina had been a rebound from his loss with Cordelia his friends supported it figuring he needed someone after losing the second woman he loved, the one that would never come back. She was nice and sweet but didn't make him laugh. Didn't get him to face his issues and let him know that even with his mistakes he wasn't a monster. No, he was the one reassuring her. They only had sex once and though it was okay Angel knew it was far from perfect. Couldn't be when he found himself wishing for someone else who'd tease him afterwards. He didn't love Nina and he didn't want to love anyone else after Cordelia.

Maybe that was why he was drawn to Spike, like Cordelia he could make him face his issues, wasn't afraid to say it like it was and had finally made him laugh. But it felt like a betrayal, like a lie. Angel was tired of lies, where had lies led him? To believe that Cordy would...Jasmine the greatest lie there ever was...his son's suicide attempt...Worfram and Hart...his friend's deaths. He wouldn't lie anymore.

A tap on his shoulder drew Angel out of his musings to see Connors' worried eyes. Words from another life another version of his son came back to him, "You can't be saved by a lie. You can't be saved at all."

"Dad? Is there something I can do?" His new son asked. That lie had saved his childs' life at the cost of his friends'. It couldn't save anyone else.

"Just..." He trailed off not sure what anyone could do for him. Turn back time? Bring his loved ones back? Undo the mess he made with his mistake of sleeping with Spike to have his friend back? "...just go back to sleep."

Connor seemed to read between the lines of his father's unspoken plea and awkwardly leaned back so his body was in his father's embrace giving in the comfort he needed


	22. Chapter 22

**Tanya Potter:** Sorry but that chapter was to show what Angel's feelings were in general not thinking about how Spike felt. At the moment he has other things on his mind. He will deal with how he and Spike feel about that night. Just not for a while. 

**Housaholic32:** Thank you. I feel that a lot of people tend to overlook Cordelia's importance to Angel especially in fanfic not devoted to C/A. She was very important to him and I am very fond of the pairing myself. (Though I'm not sure if I can get her character written well enough to ever do a proper fic with the pairing.) Yes, we're back to Spike in this chapter and he's...well you'll see.

**Adjovi:** Yeah dealing with their emotions in a mature way is not something the guys are comfortable with. I'm happy to see that you didn't have a problem with how I wrote the Cordelia/Angel relationship. The thing that's tragic about Angel (well one of the things) is that he always thought that love would bring him nothing but pain. After he is proven right the first time he's so afraid of going through it again that he misses another chance. While Spike pursues love Angel is more likely to flee.

**Silvermane1:** Thanks!

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Much to Spikes' dissatisfaction the lord of the castle did not put an end to his unwelcome advances. He was awaken from his slumber by the sweet scent of freshly cut flowers. A servant with a dangerously low cut top was arranging them into a visually pleasing display in a highly ornate vase. He thought that the vase was perfectly suited to Dracula. It was smooth with elegant golden lines that swirled into patterns that appeared more arrogant with it's overly decoration than impressive. Still something about it drew your attention to it and demanded a closer inspection. He knew that he would have to break it once the girl left.

The servant girl chose that moment to gasp out loud when she saw that he was awake. Her eyes traveled down widening when she caught the way the sheet was barely covering the bare hip. Spike smirked as if to say, "yeah I sleep in the nude luv." Clearing his throat he pointed meaningfully to the Poppies.

"Right, wot's all this for then?"

"The master wishes to convey his affections, sir." She squeaked.

Something was familiar about this that nagged at his memory and as he stood to inspect the flowers closely he vaguely noted the girl's startled scream or her fleeing the room. They were Poppies but not the kind that you usually got for your main squeeze. Instead of red, pink or white the blooms were blue. Though the bed clothes and the drapes had been changed the colors remained the same so that ruled out matching the room. For a wild moment he pondered that maybe they were suppose to match his eyes but dismissed that notion. There had to be something more cunning to this, a meaning that he was missing.

There was no card, not that he needed one when he was the prisoner of the owner of the place. Five minutes of checking it for god knew what with advanced means of poking he was disappointed to find there was only one bug. And it was a small blueish beetle that seemed to find him amusing. If the little head tilt was anything to judge by. It reminded him of Illyria enough to make him smile in fondness and at his own antics. He really was starting to lose it.

Any happiness to be found was short-lived when Madam Drake strolled into the room. Not liking the thought her seeing his bits and pieces he ducked behind the chair for cover. This woman reminded him too much of his mother's friends' for comfort, being in the buff around her felt wrong. She gave him a disapproving look at his state and flipped through a day planner with a scowl.

"I do not know how you were raised but it is considered proper to be dressed when you greet guest." She scolded.

"That's assuming bit much considering neither of us are guests and that you weren't welcomed." Spike snapped back.

"I am in charge of taking care of this household for the master therefore I am welcomed everywhere." She responded smoothly making a note in her planner. "You should have risen over an hour ago."

"Still getting used to the time difference, aren't I? Not like you're one to talk letting the kiddies out at night." When she glared up at him Spike matched the deadly gaze. "Peter's a kid, should be out in the sun where he belongs not here with my lot."

"My son is none of your concern." Madam Drake frowned in thought and added much softer: "He can't sleep during the night anyway."

The next instant she was all business-like again not giving Spike time to process Peter's strange upbringing further.

"Now I have your day planned. You will dine with Mistress Marishka and the others for breakfast and lunch. The master will regretfully be too busy to join you. Your chores will be the same with the exception of your work in the stables--"

"Why aren't I staying with the horsies? Wot's he trying to pull?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Do you really want to complain about lessening your workload? No? Then stop grumbling about it like a ninny." She chided. Now she REALLY reminded him of his mother's friends. "The master will dine with you for dinner. I'd wear something striking and less...vile if I were you."

"I'm not wearing anything!"

"Well I dare say that should make quite the impression on him then." The woman said utterly unaffected by his words. "It seems to keep with your current style."

Being reminded of his nudity did nothing to calm his quickly souring mood. "I am not going to dinner for that pompous git that's trying--badly might I add--to get a leg over me! I'm not playing his game of hide the stake!"

"Wear a shirt with more color this time, I think the master would prefer you in it." Madam Drake went on like she hadn't heard his rant. At the door she paused. "Unless of course you're serious about your nudity which I believe he would not mind."

As soon as the door shut Spike hurled the vase at it. It made a satisfying crash spilling the water and poppies over the floor. He wasn't a bird to be bought off with flowers, and he was not going to be at the pounces' beck and call.

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"Is this a pressing matter, Nicole? I am currently engaged and do not wished to be disturbed."

"I believe it is master," Madam Drake retorted nervously, "it concerns Spike."

Steeling himself for what was sure to be an oncoming headache Dracula motioned for her to sit down and continue. She did sitting on the edge of the plush seat stiff as a board. "He is not taking your pursuing this courtship well."

"That is expected." He would be a fool to believe that Spike would instantly come to his way of thinking. The measures he was taking would need time and effort to grow into fruition. For now he had to be patient while he planted the seeds of temptation for his reluctant would-be lover.

"I hope that means that you are prepared for this because the damage is starting to add up, my lord. Hans and Jon are both are injured despite the bands harming Spike. Three of your portraits have been ripped to shreds, he has refused to dine with the mistresses, broke the antique vase that contained your gift, drew obscene words on the portraits done in your image, put the statue in the south count yard garden into a vile position behind the mare statue and returned to his station at the stables against your wishes."

Dracula took a moment to digest this news before asking if the damage could be repaired. Madam Drake informed him that the portraits were a lost cause. Irritation and fury told him to make Spike pay for provoking him and the lost of prized possessions. Another emotion slowly overpowered the other two as Dracula thought of the lengths Spike went to spurn his advances.

Yes it had been childish but to continue to defy him was making this chase more thrilling. He had no doubt that he was the predator in this hunt and Spike was his prey attempting to outmaneuver him. It would make the taking that much sweeter when he finally had his obsession at long last.

The struggle for power, the passion he had seen within the younger vampire told Dracula all he needed to about where their fight could not doubt lead. Being able to feel the full impact of that fervency re-channeled and directed at himself would be very gratifying.

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Wiping the sweat from his brow Spike took a much needed break from his chore to take in what he had done. All of the horses had been taken care of up to the nameless pain in the ass stallion that never failed to piss him off. Bit like the tosser when he thought about it though he had recently been calling everything unfavorable into comparison with the Count.

And why shouldn't he? It was bad enough being a prisoner that was treated as a slave for his enemies amusement, he had tons of experience there, but wanting to shag him? That was not only insane it was unbelievable. He was glad that Peter had been kept away from him then as his temper was on a short fuse and didn't want the child to see him like this.

Spike wanted to hit something, needed to have an out lit with the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. More than anything he wanted to hurt that smug bastard that thought of him as a toy to amuse himself with. He was beyond tired of being convenient, or second best. Couldn't stand it with people he loved, why would he with those he loathed?

Speak of the devil, he mused.

Even in the silence of the night Spike could feel the other vampire's presence like an itch running up his spine. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the sensation it was not going away. Not unless he did something about it. With a sigh of long suffering that would have done both Angel and Dracula proud Spike called out to his admirer.

"Are you going to stalk me for the rest of the night or are you going to say something, tosser?" He had wanted the insult to sound more harsh but in light of his mood it came out more exhausted.

"Around you Spike one must have the patience to get a word in." The Count answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. He reformed from the air before the champions' eyes. The effect would have impressed most, Spike had always prided himself on being anomalistic from the bandwagon. This time was no different.

"That a fact? Would have thought it was you who gave the big talks. Like to hear yourself speak and talk down to your "inferiors" right?"

"You speak so much yet you have nothing of value to say." Tugging at the fastening around his neck to smooth out the wrinkles of his cloak Dracula approached his latest fixation. Glowering briefly at the coarse garments he pondered the changes it brought to the man. The dinner attire had been sensual bringing out a unseen element from Spike. There was however an appeal to the lowly rags that had not occurred to him until now. It spoke of status and power with Spike his worker doing what ever his master bid. Very pleasing indeed.

"Why do you insist on continuing this chore when I have already dismissed you of it?" Dracula asked getting to the heart of the matter.

"I do things by my leave not yours oh-master-of-the-coco-puffs." Spike thought he might have imagined the small shudder that passed through the other vampire's body.

"This is how you express your defiance." It made an odd kind of sense when he thought through it. Spike sought to gain a meager bit of control in his imprisonment. Dracula had not wanted his desired to stink of the barns or tire himself out. It was one of the many changes he had made to suit his own needs. As vexing as this struggle was becoming he could not deny how seductive it was becoming to him as of late.

"One of them. How did you like my artist rendering of you?" Spike smirked at the tick at his elders' jaw. Nice to see that his work hadn't been in vain.

"It was childish and unimpressive." A slow smile that held many promises graced the darker vampires' face. "You need not go to such length to get my attention, Spike."

The smaller man sputtered indignantly, "Get your...now see here git I rather stake myself than--"

The Count raised an eyebrow making the previously harmless statement take on new meaning. Oh yes, he was getting warmed up to the idea of this battle of wills between him and Spike. Just watching the changes between anger and the shock of that beautifully expressive face was a treat in it's self. He watched through hooded eyes as Spike unknowingly nervously licked those plump lips.

"Right. Now go on and be a good dictator of the people while I do the work that you can't be bothered to get your girly fingers dirty with."

Taking no note of the meaningless dismissive wave Dracula drew closer until he was almost pressed into Spike's back. The move successfully blocked the man between the door to the stallion without having to actually touch him. There was no way that Spike could truly ignore his presence as the closeness made it impossible for one of their kind not to sense the other. He had to feel the nearness and smell his scent. Detect the power surging through the ancient vampire that in the past had been enough to cause others of their irk swoon with it's intensity. Mixed with the undeniable arousal it was more overwhelming to the senses than the smells drifting from the stables.

"If you're certain that you wish to work here then please be my guest. I am sure that you will not let my presence distract you, correct?" Spike's shoulders tensed as if to begin another verbal battle. Wanting to delay it Dracula bent slightly to whisper into his ear. "Ah, this is a most troublesome beast. Have you been having success in taming it?"

He knew the answer very well as he had witness the abuse it gave the souled vampire countless times. Dracula suspected that Spike knew this as well but pride would not allow him to admit it. "I can take care of myself." Came the hissed reply and he saw it for what it was meant, that the younger vampire did not need or want him. Very well, two could play at this game.

"He is such a wild breed, stubborn to a fault yet he desires to be cared for I think. Ones such as this just need time to adapt, you do not want to break such a beauty. No, that defeats the purpose. You want to preserve it and have it retain it's wildness. To keep it's uniqueness. It has many...benefits, for both parties."

Gently he turned Spike to face him before adding in a husky voice, "It is to be treasured...the stallion." Sapphire eyes widen letting the Count know that his point was made. Both of them had the instant mental image of Spike on his hands and knees while his master rode him. Dracula smiled, oh what fun was to be had.Much to Spikes' dissatisfaction the lord of the castle did not put an end to his unwelcome advances. He was awaken from his slumber by the sweet scent of freshly cut flowers. A servant with a dangerously low cut top was arranging them into a visually pleasing display in a highly ornate vase. He thought that the vase was perfectly suited to Dracula. It was smooth with elegant golden lines that swirled into patterns that appeared more arrogant with it's overly decoration than impressive. Still something about it drew your attention to it and demanded a closer inspection. He knew that he would have to break it once the girl left.

The servant girl chose that moment to gasp out loud when she saw that he was awake. Her eyes traveled down widening when she caught the way the sheet was barely covering the bare hip. Spike smirked as if to say, "yeah I sleep in the nude luv." Clearing his throat he pointed meaningfully to the Poppies.

"Right, wot's all this for then?"

"The master wishes to convey his affections, sir." She squeaked.

Something was familiar about this that nagged at his memory and as he stood to inspect the flowers closely he vaguely noted the girl's startled scream or her fleeing the room. They were Poppies but not the kind that you usually got for your main squeeze. Instead of red, pink or white the blooms were blue. Though the bed clothes and the drapes had been changed the colors remained the same so that ruled out matching the room. For a wild moment he pondered that maybe they were suppose to match his eyes but dismissed that notion. There had to be something more cunning to this, a meaning that he was missing.

There was no card, not that he needed one when he was the prisoner of the owner of the place. Five minutes of checking it for god knew what with advanced means of poking he was disappointed to find there was only one bug. And it was a small blueish beetle that seemed to find him amusing. If the little head tilt was anything to judge by. It reminded him of Illyria enough to make him smile in fondness and at his own antics. He really was starting to lose it.

Any happiness to be found was short-lived when Madam Drake strolled into the room. Not liking the thought her seeing his bits and pieces he ducked behind the chair for cover. This woman reminded him too much of his mother's friends' for comfort, being in the buff around her felt wrong. She gave him a disapproving look at his state and flipped through a day planner with a scowl.

"I do not know how you were raised but it is considered proper to be dressed when you greet guest." She scolded.

"That's assuming bit much considering neither of us are guests and that you weren't welcomed." Spike snapped back.

"I am in charge of taking care of this household for the master therefore I am welcomed everywhere." She responded smoothly making a note in her planner. "You should have risen over an hour ago."

"Still getting used to the time difference, aren't I? Not like you're one to talk letting the kiddies out at night." When she glared up at him Spike matched the deadly gaze. "Peter's a kid, should be out in the sun where he belongs not here with my lot."

"My son is none of your concern." Madam Drake frowned in thought and added much softer: "He can't sleep during the night anyway."

The next instant she was all business-like again not giving Spike time to process Peter's strange upbringing further.

"Now I have your day planned. You will dine with Mistress Marishka and the others for breakfast and lunch. The master will regretfully be too busy to join you. Your chores will be the same with the exception of your work in the stables--"

"Why aren't I staying with the horsies? Wot's he trying to pull?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Do you really want to complain about lessening your workload? No? Then stop grumbling about it like a ninny." She chided. Now she REALLY reminded him of his mother's friends. "The master will dine with you for dinner. I'd wear something striking and less...vile if I were you."

"I'm not wearing anything!"

"Well I dare say that should make quite the impression on him then." The woman said utterly unaffected by his words. "It seems to keep with your current style."

Being reminded of his nudity did nothing to calm his quickly souring mood. "I am not going to dinner for that pompous git that's trying--badly might I add--to get a leg over me! I'm not playing his game of hide the stake!"

"Wear a shirt with more color this time, I think the master would prefer you in it." Madam Drake went on like she hadn't heard his rant. At the door she paused. "Unless of course you're serious about your nudity which I believe he would not mind."

As soon as the door shut Spike hurled the vase at it. It made a satisfying crash spilling the water and poppies over the floor. He wasn't a bird to be bought off with flowers, and he was not going to be at the pounces' beck and call.

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"Is this a pressing matter, Nicole? I am currently engaged and do not wished to be disturbed."

"I believe it is master," Madam Drake retorted nervously, "it concerns Spike."

Steeling himself for what was sure to be an oncoming headache Dracula motioned for her to sit down and continue. She did sitting on the edge of the plush seat stiff as a board. "He is not taking your pursuing this courtship well."

"That is expected." He would be a fool to believe that Spike would instantly come to his way of thinking. The measures he was taking would need time and effort to grow into fruition. For now he had to be patient while he planted the seeds of temptation for his reluctant would-be lover.

"I hope that means that you are prepared for this because the damage is starting to add up, my lord. Hans and Jon are both are injured despite the bands harming Spike. Three of your portraits have been ripped to shreds, he has refused to dine with the mistresses, broke the antique vase that contained your gift, drew obscene words on the portraits done in your image, put the statue in the south count yard garden into a vile position behind the mare statue and returned to his station at the stables against your wishes."

Dracula took a moment to digest this news before asking if the damage could be repaired. Madam Drake informed him that the portraits were a lost cause. Irritation and fury told him to make Spike pay for provoking him and the lost of prized possessions. Another emotion slowly overpowered the other two as Dracula thought of the lengths Spike went to spurn his advances.

Yes it had been childish but to continue to defy him was making this chase more thrilling. He had no doubt that he was the predator in this hunt and Spike was his prey attempting to outmaneuver him. It would make the taking that much sweeter when he finally had his obsession at long last.

The struggle for power, the passion he had seen within the younger vampire told Dracula all he needed to about where their fight could not doubt lead. Being able to feel the full impact of that fervency re-channeled and directed at himself would be very gratifying.

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Wiping the sweat from his brow Spike took a much needed break from his chore to take in what he had done. All of the horses had been taken care of up to the nameless pain in the ass stallion that never failed to piss him off. Bit like the tosser when he thought about it though he had recently been calling everything unfavorable into comparison with the Count.

And why shouldn't he? It was bad enough being a prisoner that was treated as a slave for his enemies amusement, he had tons of experience there, but wanting to shag him? That was not only insane it was unbelievable. He was glad that Peter had been kept away from him then as his temper was on a short fuse and didn't want the child to see him like this.

Spike wanted to hit something, needed to have an out lit with the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. More than anything he wanted to hurt that smug bastard that thought of him as a toy to amuse himself with. He was beyond tired of being convenient, or second best. Couldn't stand it with people he loved, why would he with those he loathed?

Speak of the devil, he mused.

Even in the silence of the night Spike could feel the other vampire's presence like an itch running up his spine. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the sensation it was not going away. Not unless he did something about it. With a sigh of long suffering that would have done both Angel and Dracula proud Spike called out to his admirer.

"Are you going to stalk me for the rest of the night or are you going to say something, tosser?" He had wanted the insult to sound more harsh but in light of his mood it came out more exhausted.

"Around you Spike one must have the patience to get a word in." The Count answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. He reformed from the air before the champions' eyes. The effect would have impressed most, Spike had always prided himself on being anomalistic from the bandwagon. This time was no different.

"That a fact? Would have thought it was you who gave the big talks. Like to hear yourself speak and talk down to your "inferiors" right?"

"You speak so much yet you have nothing of value to say." Tugging at the fastening around his neck to smooth out the wrinkles of his cloak Dracula approached his latest fixation. Glowering briefly at the coarse garments he pondered the changes it brought to the man. The dinner attire had been sensual bringing out a unseen element from Spike. There was however an appeal to the lowly rags that had not occurred to him until now. It spoke of status and power with Spike his worker doing what ever his master bid. Very pleasing indeed.

"Why do you insist on continuing this chore when I have already dismissed you of it?" Dracula asked getting to the heart of the matter.

"I do things by my leave not yours oh-master-of-the-coco-puffs." Spike thought he might have imagined the small shudder that passed through the other vampire's body.

"This is how you express your defiance." It made an odd kind of sense when he thought through it. Spike sought to gain a meager bit of control in his imprisonment. Dracula had not wanted his desired to stink of the barns or tire himself out. It was one of the many changes he had made to suit his own needs. As vexing as this struggle was becoming he could not deny how seductive it was becoming to him as of late.

"One of them. How did you like my artist rendering of you?" Spike smirked at the tick at his elders' jaw. Nice to see that his work hadn't been in vain.

"It was childish and unimpressive." A slow smile that held many promises graced the darker vampires' face. "You need not go to such length to get my attention, Spike."

The smaller man sputtered indignantly, "Get your...now see here git I rather stake myself than--"

The Count raised an eyebrow making the previously harmless statement take on new meaning. Oh yes, he was getting warmed up to the idea of this battle of wills between him and Spike. Just watching the changes between anger and the shock of that beautifully expressive face was a treat in it's self. He watched through hooded eyes as Spike unknowingly nervously licked those plump lips.

"Right. Now go on and be a good dictator of the people while I do the work that you can't be bothered to get your girly fingers dirty with."

Taking no note of the meaningless dismissive wave Dracula drew closer until he was almost pressed into Spike's back. The move successfully blocked the man between the door to the stallion without having to actually touch him. There was no way that Spike could truly ignore his presence as the closeness made it impossible for one of their kind not to sense the other. He had to feel the nearness and smell his scent. Detect the power surging through the ancient vampire that in the past had been enough to cause others of their irk swoon with it's intensity. Mixed with the undeniable arousal it was more overwhelming to the senses than the smells drifting from the stables.

"If you're certain that you wish to work here then please be my guest. I am sure that you will not let my presence distract you, correct?" Spike's shoulders tensed as if to begin another verbal battle. Wanting to delay it Dracula bent slightly to whisper into his ear. "Ah, this is a most troublesome beast. Have you been having success in taming it?"

He knew the answer very well as he had witness the abuse it gave the souled vampire countless times. Dracula suspected that Spike knew this as well but pride would not allow him to admit it. "I can take care of myself." Came the hissed reply and he saw it for what it was meant, that the younger vampire did not need or want him. Very well, two could play at this game.

"He is such a wild breed, stubborn to a fault yet he desires to be cared for I think. Ones such as this just need time to adapt, you do not want to break such a beauty. No, that defeats the purpose. You want to preserve it and have it retain it's wildness. To keep it's uniqueness. It has many...benefits, for both parties."

Gently he turned Spike to face him before adding in a husky voice, "It is to be treasured...the stallion." Sapphire eyes widen letting the Count know that his point was made. Both of them had the instant mental image of Spike on his hands and knees while his master rode him. Dracula smiled, oh what fun was to be had.


	23. Chapter 23

**Housaholic32:** Sorry you choked on your spaggetti. Even though Dracula still doesn't understand Spike as a whole yet he does understand important things about him. And while Dracula does lose his temper with him but he wants Spike to know that now that he is ahem "courting" him, that he will not have him beaten or tortured for his refusals. He does have a hard time keeping that promise as he trends the line slightly in this chapter. He doesn't want Spike broken though, that would get rid of part of the allure. Glad that got across. Sorry it took so long with this chapter but family stuff has kept me busy. 

**Anonymous:** Thank you for commenting and the kind words. I think they'd look good together too. As for what Dracula would think about Angel/Spike, well in this chapter you get the idea of what he thinks about Spike being with other men. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up.

**Lady Kate: **The Illyria chapter was unexpectedly interesting to write, in a way she can relate to Angel having no kingdom of her own but too many things about his nature confuses her. Illyria knows that Spike is too free willed at the moment to be a proper pet but since she used to command time (among other things) she figures that she can achieve it if she trains him for awhile. I think she suspects it would take a good while (if ever) for that to happen, just refuses to believe it. ;) Glad you liked the line. Hopefully I can have more Illyria stuff at some point. I had to save Angel, I didn't want to reveal how he felt too soon. Angel no matter how broody is always petulant when his ego is involved, lol. I enjoyed writing the damage Spike did, Madam Drake reacting to Spike, the Illyria bug and the coco-puffs. I had to write a call back to the referance earlier about Dracula hating them. 

**Silvermane1:** Thanks! 

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"Bugger me," Spike mumbled then winced at his choice of words. He had been caught unawares by what the dark vampire had said to him unable to keep that blasted image out of his head. It was like a car wreak, horrific yet you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of it. He had wanted to regain some form of control over this impossible situation and rebel. Dracula had stolen that from him as well by giving his permission to remain in the stables.

Could mean for me to leave knowing that I'd never listen to 'im. But if he thinks that I don't know that he doesn't want me to leave by saying that he wants me to stay he has ...

That thought process hadn't gone much further until it confused him enough to give him back some type of sanity. His escape plans were useless with the magic and the guards surrounding him at all hours. Without the knowledge of magic (which never went well for him) or assistance he was pretty much buggered. Though he was going to make damn sure it wasn't in the literal sense.

He hadn't wanted to stay behind in the stables with the reminder of Dracula's words running through his mind. Hours later he was still furious with the Count for one upping him in their little game. No more being caught off guard though, Dracula wanted to play well Spike bloody well wasn't going to by his rules.

Forming his own plan he caught an out of place hue in his quarters out of the corner of his eye. Much to his disgust the flower arrangement that he had previously destroyed had been replaced with another. Like the other this one was not the cliche red roses but an rather odd choice of color for a "suitor" to be giving.

It was not blue roses but coral. Spike knew there had to be a deeper meaning to it as irritation itched through him as the elusive memory refused to surface. The new vase was more elaborately designed than the first, one he instantly recognized from the poncy high collar set days of William. No one back then did seem to grasp the concept of less being more. Always went overboard with the sentiments and dressing up things. Bunch of bollocks it was. Figured that the great git liked such poofy era.

---------------------------------

The glow of his small victory had faded leaving Dracula to stew in his frustration. He had waited in the dining hall for half an hour for his reluctant lover. It was nonsense to feel stood up when he knew of Spike's resistance but he was the lord of this castle. He should have commanded enough respect to get Spike to obey his request. Well, his order actually but he didn't want to quibble with words then.

Others had bowed to his will faster, his most hot tempered conquests had all been putty in his hands at this stage. Dracula never entertained the thought that perhaps Spike did not find him attractive. Having succeeded wooing for centuries did not damper ones self-esteem quite the opposite. There had been some thought to the vampires' sexuality, whether the other had experimented with his own sex or was curious.

Those did not last long as Dracula loathed to even ponder Spike with other men. Which was frankly absurd, he merely wanted the body not the whole. Why should he feel such anger, such jealously over a being he simply lusted after? If Spike did not have encounters with men before (which Dracula naturally assumed he didn't) then he would prey on that curiosity.

He would have to be direct without doing what Spike perceived as forcing. No harsh punishments would come for resistance (such as beatings), no trances would be placed, but he could still "request" his company. The line between prisoner and lover would be a perilous line to walk. The Count however felt that he could manage. If his own temper with Spike's insolence would allow.

Giving up the pretense of waiting for a guest he knew was not coming Dracula gave his butler a few curt commands as he regally existed the dining hall. His efforts to restore Elsa and the rest to their old selves had failed. Though news of the elder approaching was heartening he knew that she would be postponed due to avoiding the rebels. The quietness of that thorn in his side as of late was unsettling. He would not be foolish enough to believe that they had disappeared entirely.

All in all Dracula had grown tired of these difficulties that had yet to be solved. For now he could do nothing about either curing Elsa nor crushing his new enemies. Spike was another matter. Detesting the notion of asking for permission in his own home he nevertheless did the gentlemanly thing to rap the door.

No one answered though he heard movement within. He waited for nearly a full minute and repeated his action. A grunt and a muttered curse were uttered yet the door remained closed. Patience as always slipping around the ever annoying vampire Dracula banged the door harder.

"I know you are there Spike open the door at once!" He had expect more of the same silent treatment or perhaps a few choice words to mock while the barrier that separated them remained closed. So unprepared for the door to be flung open the Count almost fell into the room.

"Well now, if it isn't Count sell out. Fancy pitching a few new ideas for the market. Maybe a line of Dracula approved coffins for the comfort of the dearly departed. You got the other end of the market covered, right? Unless you want t' go the other way and do a vamp-gone sun screen. Which might be the-"

"You were not in the dining hall."

"'M not going to, want to keep the blood down, you know." Spike remarked smirking at the snarl he got in return.

"You will dine with me, Spike, if you wish to feed at all." Dracula hissed leaning into the shorter mans' personal space.

His height should have alarmed him but it felt more like Spike was looking down at him instead. Narrowing his eyes he took in this man who constantly gnawed at his nerves and had begun to take over his mind. Challenging stance, defiant eyes, messy curly hair, wearing loose and dirty clothes. He reminded Dracula of a defeated solder he had once seen briefly before the man was set to meet his fate with the firing squad. Not caring what was done to him now that he had nothing to lose. Though Spike had a type of jeering laughter in his eyes that the man did not. As if for better or worse his own fate amused him on some level. Dracula wondered if when he finally died the man would laugh at the irony of his own destiny.

"That so?"

"It is. We will be using your room since you feel so bothered by leaving it." He grinned slightly at the gaping mouth reaction his announcement received and refused to gloat further. Not only was it beneath him it would not help him with gaining Spike's affections.

Knowing he would not be invited in nor did he need to be Dracula stepped inside ignoring the stuttering insults to view the flowers he sent. Not liking the way it had been moved to the corner he set it on the table.

"Thought I made it clear, wanker. Not a girl, don't want your girly gifts. Don't want you either so you might as well stop wasting your bleeding time."

"And I believed I made my intentions clear." Dracula countered enjoying how flustered Spike became at the mention. "The gifts merely are reminders of my feelings." He hinted not bothering to get into more detail. The secret smile he wore was extremely galling more so for the fact that he now intruded on Spike's small freedom from him. Was this another chance for the famed seducer to show off his power? Spike snorted.

"Don't need reminders mate, not when I get to see your ugly mug all the bloody time. Can't even so much as go to the loo without hearing 'bout your fat arse strutting 'round to make himself feel all useful." The statement had erased the smile but anger had not yet set in. Still it was a good sign that he was on the right track. "They always talk the big man up, y'know? Not that I blame them for wanting to stay in your "good graces" with your reputation with the boot lickers. But that's all it is in't, just talk."

Dracula had yet to reply and watched with a curiously blank face beckoning his servant with the slight movement from his index finger. The short man brought in a small cart carrying a crystal bottle, wine bottle and five glasses. One was already filled to the brim with what smelled of the sickly scent of pig's blood, and two were soon topped off with the rich wine that judging by the aged label was from 1567. The fourth had the liquid from the fine crystal bottle that came out in a thicker stream poured into it. Their waiter then looked from each man in the unvoiced question of the contents of the fifth. Spike answered by glare sending the man fidgeting towards his master.

"That is all we will require for now." The Count murmured swirling the wine distractedly.

The man looked relieved as he hastily existed leaving the cart behind. Dracula had taken a seat at the small table as Spike chose to remain standing. Not able to get a rise out of his rival by waiting it out he continued on his line of thought as if the waiter had not interrupted them with their meal. "Said you going to get the slayer, never did. She kicked your arse all over Sunnyhell, didn't she? Said a lot of rot but you never follow through?"

Lifting his eyes from his drink to glance up Dracula responded as if he was struggling to keep himself restrained. From letting his emotional state around Spike from getting the better of him when he was trying to be a gentleman. To be a lover. "The same if memory serves can be said for you, William the Bloody. I heard that you claimed Buffy Summers as the third slayer you would kill yet you never did."

"Things changed, not that it's any of--"

"As they had for myself."

"Like your little welcome wagon that wants to burn down your cozy home? The crowds always did love to gather the pitchforks whenever you happened by. Anything change on that score then?"

Frowning Dracula realized that Spike must have been implying the rebels but how he came about this information he could not be certain. His servants surely had better sense than to disobey his orders. The words did sadly have some grain of truth to them though he was loathed to admit it he had no great plan. With so little information it proved difficult to come up with a means of attack. To have this pointed out by Spike of all people was very bothersome indeed. "More than you could possibly imagine."

Growing weary of this particular battle and wishing to dine he motioned to the seat opposite himself. "Now sit and join me."

"I'd rather sit in the sun wearing Harris' clothes." The younger man said stubbornly. Even with Harris' tacky choice of clothes he'd have more dignity than sitting with this detested enemy of his.

Dracula was a bit puzzled at the picture Spike painted with him dressed as that buffoon of a man servant he had once commanded. Nevertheless he was not one to be denied. "I told you once before you shall share your meals with me or have none at all. You can survive without blood, correct?" His temper was getting harder to control and he was half tempted to pull out Spike's chair for him knowing how such a gesture was sure to enrage the other.

Meanwhile Spike was debating with himself on what he should do in this situation. He hated the Count but he did not want to go through the same experience as he had after the chip. It was just sharing meals though nothing more...

Grudgingly he slumped down in the only other seat at the table not bothering to glance at the other vampire, knowing if he did he would see the tell tale sign of victory on his face. To make matters worse he knew what he had just unwittingly agreed to--he was now on a date with Count Dracula.

Bugger.


	24. Chapter 24

**Housaholic: **Spike does always seem to get buggered. Not always in the good way mind. ;) Thank you .:)

**Adjovi:** Thank you. I always worry about the voices of the characters.

**TeeDee:** Spike always seems to suffer in some form. Dracula is willing to take better care of Spike if it will allow him to ahem relieve some of his tension. ;) Glad you liked that joke.

**Tanya Potter:** Yes. I don't imagine he's too pleased.

**Silvermane1:** Thanks!

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Dracula raised an eyebrow at the stiff manner in which Spike sat on his chair. It seemed so out of place with the rebel image that he presented the world with for so long. The image that he was accustomed to seeing before the imprisonment. Once Spike was the gentleman William according to the reports from Worfram and Hart. How he had come into being as such a distorted version of himself was fascinating in it's self. Had the changes from being human to demon forced it about? Did being a demon reveal deeper hidden secrets? Or strangest of all, was it all merely a facade?

As far as Dracula could tell few even knew about who William had been. The poetry that Spike still favored showed that something that was hidden. Though he could not see the younger man being good enough of an actor for this persona to be false.

Nothing with understanding Spike came easy, he had assumed for instance that he would uncover the meaning with the flowers. It had been quite the trend in Spikes' time as a human after all. Perhaps it was another falsehood that he would not admit to knowing.

His attention was diverted from his thoughts when Spike drummed his fingers restlessly against the tabletop. His current bane glanced at the door every few moments as if he expected their waiter to join them again. If there had been a clock on the far wall Dracula had the impression that he would be looking at it with the same frequency. That was not an appealing notion. He wanted Spike to be focused on him and only him. How to achieve that without insults may prove futile but it was better than the stifling silence.  
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"Tell because I am intrigued, what was the purpose of Angelus working for Worfram and Hart?"

Hearing that voice out of the blue shook Spike out of his musings about the uses of having several brides making him blink in confusion. The question seemed strangely out of place especially considering that the topic focused on Angel. Someone who he had been attempting not to think to much on. Even though he had been in the back of his mind whenever Darla and Drusilla were brought up he had never been talked about like this.

Shrugging he answered with the party line Angel and his gang had given people. "Figured they could take down evil from the belly of the beast. Worked out s'ppose." He didn't really believe that but he didn't owe Dracula a better answer.

"The death of most of his associates "worked out"? I had heard that he does not hold many allies but I never knew he thought so little of their value."

"It wasn't like that prat." Yes he had thought the same on occasion whenever he was feeling poorly towards Angel (which granted was often) but Dracula hadn't been there. And despite their bickering Spike knew the truth. "They knew how it would go down. The lot of them were fighters 'couse they knew the risks, unlike some--" his eyes blazed at his companion while he took a quick slip of the blood, "Angel don't kill off his people when he gets bored."

He'd watch hockey games, sing off key when he thought no one was around and be a general prick though Spike won't say that. It would ruin the moment. And yeah old Wes stabbed Charlie for his unintentional role in Freds' death, Connor had left his dad to go insane, Angel had tried to kill Wesley according to Lorne not to mention his own history with peaches.

But really that was hardly worth talking about and by vampire standards was pretty tame. Least in his understanding. Darla had once tried to castrate Angel which in the latters' opinion (and Spike's) was a far more unforgivable offense though understandable since she had been carrying Connor at the time.

"The employees of Worfram and Hart would disagree." The dark haired man countered.

"Oh that," he shrugged, "they were evil inc. and knew what they'd get for crossing the line." The blood was truly fowl and he struggled not to make it apparent. Darla always said he made dismal attempts at a good poker face. Well at least the wine would wash the taste away when he finished.

"And yet...if I am understanding correctly...both of you reject your nature by hunting." The Count frowned meaningfully at the half drank glass of swine's blood. "You have just shown a contempt for my dealings with my staff, yet you are dismissive of the manner of the killings that took place at Worfram and Hart. How is it that I am marked a villain for retaining order, having favorites also, and following my nature while you support his actions?"

Spike wanted to make a flippant comment about Angel being slightly less of a git. He couldn't, not without it looking like the idiot Dracula (and yes Angel) claimed him to be in the past. One of the many tricky spots with having a soul was dealing with the grey areas. There had been many double standards with the Scoobies, a few he doubted would ever think more on it other than demons equal bad souled or not. He couldn't say for sure what Angel's friends were like before their futile run at trying to turn around corruption from within.  
He knew well enough the dangers they were facing when they deluded themselves but he did see the grey areas. Oh he wouldn't join them though Spike would help them and steal from Angel. That way he could (as absurd as it sounds) be the voice of reason. Had to be when Cordelia and Fred were both gone and the gents were all losing their minds.

Torturing humans for information wasn't much of a line to cross in Spike's mind, not when they were dirty. He'd never killed humans like Angel did, might if he had to do so. Spike had no doubt how Buffy would view it though. Everything was black in white in her view with souls. Had to be. And humans always came first.

"Angel wasn't the same in that place. No one was and the tossers that he sliced and diced weren't saints themselves. Far as I can see you chuck blokes out this life for daring to be eyeing your birds too long. Big difference there mate." Spike said clarifying the matter.

"I'll accept that answer...for now." Dracula replied neutrally. He leisurely drank from the other glass this time. The metallic scent of human blood wafted in the air momentarily making Spike's head spin. A small drop stood out against the grayish complexion like a pyre in a field of snow. The overpowering urge to reach out and taste it both shocked and excited him at once.

_What the sodding hell?!_

It was just the blood that called out to him though, he knew that. Yet he couldn't keep his gaze from watching those lips as the rich accent filled his senses with it's dark promises.

"I do not however understand how you can deny what you are. You are a vampire, are you not? Surely you can not cast off such a profound part of yourself as you would a cloak." Instead of using the napkins to wipe his mouth clean the dark lord used his index finger drawing Spike's slightly drunk gaze to the crimson finger. "Yes, it is what makes us such a...provocative group. Yet it is what makes us truly alive more than those who walk under the suns' glare could ever be. To deny such urges we are truly dead."

The speech along with the tone had a familiar slightly lyric quality to it that reminded him vaguely of poetry. All the most commanding presences in his unlife had similar qualities to their voices. Drusilla even in her mad way had music about her whether it was telling her visions or going on about cakes and bees. Those little empowerment speeches Buffy had were magic in their own manner, they caught him in it's spell half the time. (Others he thought she went a little too far with the big talks.) Angelus had always been seductive in his words and while Angel suppressed that part of himself it still came out. In his body movements, in his eyes, and in his touch.

With Dracula now Spike felt the power of the words and the well remembered scent of a forever aching hunger. When the darker of the two shifted Spike blinked lazily in surprise to recall that he was in the bedroom becoming all to aware of the inviting bed just behind the shoulder of the other man. His head felt like it was filled with a fog that refused to clear. Normally he would account such a reaction on a thrall but he hadn't been watching the eyes when he was pulled into this state. He would have had to be if it was indeed a thrall.

An astonishing soft hand suddenly cupped his cheek turning him to stare into the fathomless eyes of his famed foe. Shaking himself mentally and physically Spike jerked his head back only to find another hand had slipped to cradle the back of his throat. He tried not to shudder at the touch not knowing if he succeeded. Nor did he know if it was from revulsion or at how sensitive the spot being rubbed that made him feel so ill at ease. The left hand which stroked his face still had the blood stained finger which was making it harder to fight his instincts.

Lust and blood were vital parts of every vampire. The soul did not change that only added the human morals into the mix. Humans weren't perfect by any means and were prone to mistakes. He wanted to be a better man though, one who didn't merely run on his basic needs. Blood...it was like home, where you belonged, a tie to your identity. No matter how much you changed you could never out run it. Never stop wanting it.

"You are one of the most lively beings I have ever known, Spike. To cage yourself thus is madness. I can..."Dracula loomed nearer and Spike yanked his head to the side to not have their faces so close to one another. "...help you see the pleasures that are to be had by accepting who you are. By embracing it."

Spike laughed mirthlessly and threw a contemptuous glare. "Right, this the part where you tell me that by joining the dark side we can rule the sodding galaxy? Didn't buy the DVD not going to buy this either." He mentally gave himself ten points for his believable bravado. If he kept this up he might convince himself that he wasn't tempted by the offering literally right in front of him. If he gave in and drank he had no doubt that he'd be easy prey to Draculas' wiles.

"This is given freely Spike," he knew Dracula meant more than the blood, "and in return will be taken freely. Do you want it?"

The proverbial bucket of ice water cleared his clouded mind at the last question. Oh, he recalled all too well when someone had asked him that one. His dark princess choosing her dark knight in an alleyway when he was William the bloody awful poet. William the mamma's boy. William the innocent. He had thought that he had met the love of his life and when she had asked him...

_Do you want it?_

He readily agreed with everything he had in him. She had taken that as her cue to kill him. To make him into something else. A monster that he had fought to never be again. No.

"What did you say?"

Spike realized that he must have answered outloud. "I said no, now get the hell out of here." He growled knowing that his eyes must have shone amber. What had just happened to him?


	25. Chapter 25

**Tanya Potter:** Dracula will find out from Spike more of the reasons for his resistance. He does realize that he has his work cut out for him trying to seduce an enemy and having it be Spike makes it much harder. Can't tell you how soon that will be at this point I'm afraid. I'm never sure how much time I'll stay with each group.

**Housaholic32:** Spike isn' t a saint and is tempted by many things. You know having him taste the blood was a near thing when I wrote it. Glad you weren't disappointed in him. I can't promise that you will won't be disappointed in him in the future.

**TeeDee: **He has to be good to keep getting so many lovers. ;-) The question is whether he will keep using tricks or try something new.

**mychemicalromancefreak29: **Thank you, I'm glad you have enjoyed the story so far. As for Spangel at the end...I can't promise anything in that regards yet. I have three different ideas for the ending in mind and haven't chosen one yet.

**Karone Evertree: **I wanted to see more Angel/Spike on the show too. I'm excited to hear about the season 6 comics though. The writer says there will be slighly less sexual tension than in LOTR. ;-) I hope you got the job. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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Carey tossed the bottle of pills carelessly into the glove compartment and leaned back into her seat waiting for them to work their magic on her. She knew Jane was nearby frightened out of her head about the recent events but made no move get up forcing the other girl to climb into the passenger seat.

"Wh–what was that? He--he just--I can't..."

Without opening her eyes Carey nodded, "Sarah will be fine and once she meets his standards he'll reverse it."

"And...and if she doesn't?" Her friend didn't reply and she had her answer. "How can we work with someone like him? How can you train with him? ...He must be really hard to please." Jane whispered even though they were alone.

"Hard to please, hell yes. How do you work with him? Just do what he says and don't complain. As for me training with him let me make this clear," she finally looked at Jane, "I went to him. I did not walk into the big scary watchers' clutches blindly. I knew about his rep for years and wanted him to be my teacher."

"Why?"

Carey sighed returning to her relaxed posture. "Because he's one of the best and that was what I wanted to be too."

The other girl felt that there was more to it but let it pass. She let a lot of things pass these days, like the pills. Not that Jane had issues with Carey's beliefs in being a slayer. She didn't, not where it counted. This watcher though was an unknown and dangerous element to her.

As if her thoughts had taken on a life of their own the car door resounded the tapping of the knuckles as a rigid Michelle alerted them to his arrival. Carey nodded standing as if she were merely going off to run a simple errand. A sluggish Jane followed in her wake casting a worried glance at the other slayers who stared back blankly.

"We need to find the vampire and his allies before they ruin everything. Did you secure a tracer?" The question was given to all present though Carey and Jane had not been part of the last battle.

"Yes sir, on the boy."

"Where are they headed?"

"They appear to be taking the train, sir." Carey supplied. "I have their movements on the lab top."

"You have the routes?" Roger asked harshly, bearing down on her as if preparing to act for her failure.

"Yes, I sent them to you while you were...occupied." She betrayed no fear and Jane began to wonder if Carey was aware of the trouble she could be in. That it could happen to her just as it had to Sarah. Did she even care?

"Good to see someone is up to the task. No one should have to pick up the slack for others, still it seems we have little choice. Not if we want it done right."

The "compliment" wasn't really directed at Carey and she knew it. She was just used as an example to point out what he viewed as the others lacking. If or when she failed to yield results she knew such words would be directed at her too. Not that it mattered much, she wasn't a slayer to get a pat on the back. That was Summers concerns not hers.

"Sir?" Alison asked uncertain what he was implying. There had to be something beyond a simple insult. There usually was with him.

"We wouldn't be playing games anymore, I want that vampire, the traitor, and his demon friends yesterday. Find them and capture them or..." Turning he met Carey's glance. "...it might be time for you to truly prove what the best training in the Watcher's Council is worth."

She nodded comprehending more than the rest and trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. For now he'd stick with the Elite squad to keep everything orderly and by the book. If they failed again he would risk the secret that he kept from the council. Then the shit would really hit the fan for all of them.

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Unnaturally azure eyes regarded the pair speaking quietly among themselves. If she wanted to Illyria could have heard the conversation. The truth was that the words mattered little to her a creature of action and force. Especially when she did not speak them. She found most creatures wasted the breath they were given to clutter air with unneeded idiotic chatter. It was the human comparison to insects buzzing about her ears though she considered the latter to have far more intelligent discussions.

No, what held her interest was not what was said it was the body movements that had a language of it's own. The fallen king seemed to be collapsing from with in, his body tight, arms crossed, head bowed as if defeated. His muscles would loosen when the boy spoke, the face would relax and his form would soften. Family relations of humans had been confusing to follow. Angel though a half breed acted much like a human. Not as emotional as Spike but still swayed by them.

In her day this loyalty, and fondness for one's scion was foolish at best. The child was to be created as a heir, the next in line, a way to enforce your rule. You trained them, sent them off to survive on their own, and if all else failed you eat your young. That was the manner in which she understood the relationship. This...tenderness was foreign.

From Fred's remaining memories she could recall a time when Connor had acted his role in nature's scheme by challenging his father. That anger was gone now replaced by an awkwardness that Illyria found ill suited for a warrior. And yet the weakness of the Burkle shell made her feel a absurd yearning. Strange. Distrubing. Unwanted. Unneeded.

Next to the god king was the slayer viewing the compartment from outside. The woman had not had anything to say to the old one since their talk of mating. Illyria could sense the interest the woman had not only in her but also the two they were watching. The concerns of Angel and his heir were not hers and Illyria had questions of her own.

"The man who commands the slayers is Wesley's father." She stated, knowing it to be true but nonetheless needing to have it confirmed.

"Yeah and he has a mad on for us." Faith remarked distractedly.

"I have questions that I will have answered when we met again."

"Say what?" The young woman snapped out of her idle phone flipping. "Uh in case it escaped your notice blue bird we're running FROM the psycho not TO him."

"I know of what I speak." A slight irritation colored her words, as if Faith questioning her deeply offended. Most likely it did. "No matter where we go he will follow to achieve his goals."

"You just met the dude, how can you be so sure?"

Illyria paused thoughtfully before replying softly, "It is what I believe Wesley would have done."

"Yeah." Slipping the cell phone back into her pocket Faith finally gave the demon her full attention. "Look, don't know the guy myself but I can't see him having a heart to heart. Dude's got a scary vibe to him."

"He is a man that will brook no excuses, suffer no fools and destroy obstacles to take what he desires. It is good to know that this world does not only breed mewling drones, slow witted leaders, and untrained masses."

"You saying that ol' Rog impresses you?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow. It didn't shock her that much that a demon would like seeing another monster at work. That was how they threw down, right? Okay, she could see the beauty in the hits of her opponent too. Still it was more than unnerving that Illyria seemed almost proud to see these qualities. How the hell could Angel trust this chick in his friend's dead body? Not that the big guy had the best of judgement he did trust her after all.

"Hardly. One can not be impressed with the twitching of lowly forms. It will not aid him against a god as I could snap his bones with the slightest twist of the shell's fingers. I merely find it pleasing that a challenger is at least worthy in one sense though he is far beneath my notice in all others." Without a warning Illyria turned her heels on the spot and walked off. It appeared that neither Faith nor the family held her interest any longer.

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"--Saw most of the movies. I can't believe he's real." Connor mused looking thoughtful bring a smile to the face of the man that had so little to lift his spirits these days. He could see Darla in his son, little glimpses that appeared when he least expected it. Spike used to say that he didn't see much of Angel in Connor.

_"Good looking kid you got." Spike had said solemnly._

_"Thanks." He had replied bursting with fatherly pride and a slight ego push that he figured Spike hadn't noticed. The bleached blond had and of course had to ruin the moment._

_"Lucky he favors Darla otherwise he wouldn't be able to see a ruddy thing with that massive forehead blocking his sight." The younger vampire shot back with that shit-eating smirk he hated so much._

Angel knew he was good looking, Spike had certainly thought so that night...which he was not going to think about. He wasn't. Because that was something that wouldn't end well.

...He did see Darla in Connor and that made him happy to know that part of her lived on through their child. With him she had found something that she had never known, love, hope and with any luck: peace. Angel wished he could find some measure of peace. The cursed didn't deserved it though especially not him. Not after he failed so many and caused so much destruction.

"DAD!"

"What?" Angel blinked finding two familiar blue eyes that were equally as annoyed as his mother's had been when she was at wit's end with him.

"You're doing it again?"

"Doing what again?" He questioned honestly confused.

"Brooding." Connor replied unconsciously mimicking his father's no nonsense stance. His mouth thinned, his arms crossed tightly, and the deadly glare. The vampire would have smirked at it if he wasn't already peeved at the remark.

"I wasn't brooding," he denied, "I don't brood."

"Yeah and Spike doesn't water down your brandy after drinking half of it."

"How do you know he does that?" Angel asked suspiciously.

The youth's eyes briefly widen a second before he changed tactics. "Missing the point dad, I was talking to you and you didn't hear what I said."

"Oh...sorry. I was just thinking." He chose to ignore the muttered "brooding" even though they both knew he could hear it. "What's on your mind?"

"It wasn't anything serious, I just can't believe there's really a Count Dracula. I mean that stuff they tell about him is fake, at least with most vampires and I figured it meant he was too."

"Yeah, most of the crap they tell about us--like that coffin thing they got from him--now there are all these stereotypes running around." His son's lip twitched as if to contain something and Angel caught the gleam of mirth in them. "Fine, make fun of your old man."

"Sorry it's just the idea of vampires getting offended by stereotypes is kinda funny. I didn't think you'd care." The boy shrugged at his father.

"Well we do! You should hear how Spike--"The smile slid off Angel's face just fast as it had appeared. Connor narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly pondering his father. "How much Dracula pissed him off with that book." He finished lamely.

"Did you have a history with him, fighting through the years and trying to kill each other?"

It took Angel a full minute to realize that Connor had meant Dracula and not Spike. "Uh, not really. We only met once, at Worfram and Hart. He was a client." Seeing the disappointment he tried to make up for it, "We did fight though, he turned into a wolf and tried to kill Fred."

Spike had played a part in getting Dracula to release her but he wouldn't mention that. The little bastard had riled up the Count enough to start the damn fight in the first place. Okay, so he had killed the girl, he didn't know that she was under the other vampire's protection and he WAS cursed. And yeah Spike was sort of right about it kind of being his fault for starting the feud. Not that it was important.

Apparently his son saw that he was withholding a little information. Too much of Darla was in the kid for his own good. "Spike has some history with him. Which he claims is my fault--"

"How?"

"It's complex. You know that gypsy girl?"

Connor nodded eyes lit with renewed interest and brow furrowed in confusion how it could relate to Spike.

"She belonged to this tribe that after I was given a soul Darla, Drusilla and Spike killed. Most of them I guess, but they were protected by the Count. He came after the girls and Spike tried to protect them." The words sounded as bitter as they felt in his mouth.

"Spike fought him all these years for something you started?"

"I didn't start--they killed the tribe not--the point is that they got a past rivalry. Which means that Spike is probably sitting in a dank cell being tortured with the rank, nine tails and maybe flaying. Wonder if he'd do it himself after all these years, the Count does have a reputation for it." Who knew what horrors were in stored for Spike at the hands of an enemy that wanted nothing more that to stake him. Angel felt worried just thinking about how the Count was likely to impale the smaller vampire.


	26. Chapter 26

**Housaholic32:** Thank you. Illyria is very challenging to write for me, so I'm trying my best.

**Adjovi:** Well I might have a few Spangel bit here and there. Thanks!

**Spikemyangel:** Yes, I'm childish enough to write lines like that. ;) I couldn't help myself. Great name by the way. :)

**Silvermane1:** Thanks!

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Jane couldn't help flinching whenever Sarah moved by her. The tight bandages with hints of red brought her unwanted gaze to the throat it was wrapped around. Which was the point, he wanted them all to pay attention to this lesson.

She had watched Sarah's pained face when the food had been passed around on the drive. How the woman could only answer with shakes or nods now. Carey had claimed the process could be reversed, Jane didn't know if that was false comfort, she had no idea what Roger had done. Whatever it was didn't look comfortable.

"Is there a problem?" Much to chagrin she had not heard his movements and jumped at the voice.

"No, sir." She answered automatically half recalling Carey's words about not complaining.

"You are not comfortable around me, are you girl?" The tone he used demanded the truth and too scared to refused she complied.

"No, sir. I...I'm not use to your methods."

"I run a tight ship to get the best results of my missions some can not understand and are too weak to do what is right. They are usually lured into the belly of the beast themselves." Bitterness crept into Roger's voice but she did not question who he was referring to then. "Tell me girl, what do you think of demons?"

"Their evil," Jane replied as if it should have been obvious, "we were given these gifts to smite them. To protect the ones who can not."

"That's true, sadly there are members of the Council now, ones who do not belong on it in the first place that disagree. They would have slayers back off on areas that are demon populated because the monsters are considered "harmless." Soulless beings are not to be trusted." Thrusting a finger at the blinking dot moving on the labtop he laughed humorlessly, "Angelus and William the Bloody though have souls. Ms. Summers and her friends are fine with letting them live because of this. They forget that a soul does not change the demon, the evil still remains and corrupts. We must do what others can't."

Jane frowned, what he said had made sense to her but she wasn't sure if she wanted to believe it. Surely Mr. Giles had to have seen that these creatures didn't deserve to live. They weren't human in any respect, an affront to the lord and dangerous to them all. Once Roger had sat back down Jane whispered to Carey, "Did your first watcher act like him?"

Carey bit into her lip for a moment not bothering to reply and her friend wasn't even sure if she heard the question.

"What?" Carey whirled around to face her watcher in astonishment. "You want me to go out on a date with boys?"

"Well one would do as I'd imagine they would be fussy in groups. Though if you preferred girls--"

"That's not what I meant and you know it." She scoffed. "I mean--why bother? I thought it was a.) Against the rules, and b.) Pointless anyway."

Mary Jarvis had been her guardian for as long as Carey could recall raising her almost since birth. When she was called (or if) they would fight on the field. Mary had taught her all about the slayer lore, the handbook, and the rules about fighting alone. Friends and lovers were distractions. That was how the girl before the current slayer had died. Giving up her own life to save her lover (her own watcher) and her dog. The evil forces won because she hadn't had the heart to do what was needed to win. Carey was determined not to repeat her mistakes.

"You're nineteen now and I know neither one of us has wanted to consider that...you may never be called." Mary's eyes shone with compassion doing nothing to lessen the impact on Carey.

"I could though, it's happened before with slayers who were called at a later age. Ones that were older than me." The girl added stubbornly.

"It has also passed several potentials in a generation and occurring later in life is very rare." Pushing a strand of greying hair from her eyes Mary sighed. "I know it's a disappointment for you Carey, it is for me as well but these things can not be helped. It is simply out of our hands. I think it would be best if you could adjust to normal life just in case."

"How?" She had no idea how normal girls acted outside of television. Not with friendship nor lovers. How did you know if you would make good friends much less find a boyfriend? The guys she met at the library and at stores all acted the same. Were men suppose to be that blunt? Was she supposed to take that and swoon?

"Just give it your best shot." Her teacher encouraged.

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"No." Carey finally answered not taking her eyes off the road. "She didn't. Maybe if she was she wouldn't have been killed."

Glancing at the screen she informed the group that they would be within range in five hours. Then perhaps they would get results. No, they WOULD get results. She didn't accept anything less anymore.

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Angel found himself in the middle of a vast bed nude. Candle light bathed the area in a warm glow making his own skin appear golden. A fake tan, he mused. He ran his callous hand over his arm until the skin he touched skimmed over another body. Such a beautiful lean one that he could not resist tracing it's contours with his bare hands. Absently he wondered if it was the male version of Pygmalion. A body sculpted to perfection that the creator adored. Whoever it's creator was had been foolish to give it up without a fight.

A tongue darted out over those tempting lips and Angel captured it at once. He enjoyed the taste and let himself drink it in with great relish. Strong confident hands tangled in his hair and down his back. It seemed his lover couldn't get enough of him either.

"Like that, luv?" The mans' sultry voice asked between small nibbles of his ear lobe.

"Feels so good baby." Angel moaned gazing down at Spike in all his glory spread out for him. He really didn't know where to start and didn't want to finish for some time. His wandering hand ran up the length of the muscled legs between the thighs seeking out--

"Yeah he says that now," called a female voice causing the distracted Angel to give a shout of alarm. "But just wait until the glow wears off. He'll be calling you a pro." Buffy Summers rolled her eyes. "What insensitive moron treats you like that after your first time together anyway?" She asked addressing Spike rather than Angel.

"Buffy? What are you doing here?" Angel squealed trying in vain to cover his nudity but the covers seemed to have disappeared. The sole abject that he could find was a ugly pink heart shape pillow that he clumsily placed in front of his groin. Spike, far from bothered watched the scene with a sense of detracted curiosity. Why wasn't she picking on Spike?

"Wow, I'm here all of two seconds and you already want me gone? That new record for you?" She mocked giving him the classic Buffy stance with her arms crossed as she stood judging him."Not that I'm big on the amazement. That is your M.O., taking off when things get to hard."

"Like you're one to talk." It might have been childish to say but dammit she had no call to go there.

She shrugged as if words that usually would have had her snapping at him with righteous fury couldn't faze her now. "There's a different though, right? I was just a kid, you should have known better. You didn't even want to make it work."

"Neither did you." Angel countered. "Admit it Buffy, you were happy that your freakshow of a boyfriend wasn't keeping you in the dark with him. You never accepted that part of me."

"And I didn't?" To Buffy's left another blonde sat in the shadows in a red dress with a dangerously high slit. In contrast she wore a modest white jacket that might have looked out of place on anyone else. Darla always could get away with anything. Compared to Buffy's baggy attire she appeared more mature and would not likely to be mistaken for the girl next door.

"No, you couldn't accept the soul." He corrected wondering briefly why Darla and Buffy would team up to haunt him. Maybe it was a blonde thing. Mostly likely it was an ex-girlfriend thing. Interrupting sex seemed like something that they'd plot together against an ex. Maybe Worfram and Hart was behind it. Stopping sex with Spike seemed like a really evil thing to do.

"Did near the end, didn't I darling? You were relived to be free of me again. You never were much for commitment."

"Like you were with the Immortal?" Angel shot back sourly.

Darla smirked, "Never said I was. One would hope that you could be."

"Truth is Angel..." His unbeating heart twisted at the appearance of the third woman. He didn't want to hear her berate him too. She never let him off easy.

Cordelia Chase smiled fondly wearing the same clothes she had when he had last seen her "alive." Spike winked at her and she responded by blowing him a kiss. Okay that didn't seem like the Cordelia he knew...

"You never even give anyone the chance to get close. You let us all slip through your fingers. After the third or fourth time that's gotta tell you something, buddy." She winked much like Spike had and his patience snapped as the pieces fell into place. That son of a bitch wouldn't--

"You know I used kill people for less. I'm not in the best of moods right now so I'd quit with the little mind games, Sergio." Angel growled at the Cordelia image in front of him half wondering if he could be intimating nude next to Spike clutching a tacky pink heart pillow. "Cordelia" quirked an eyebrow at him, "Darla" huffed in frustration and "Buffy" snorted. In the back round a woman that sounded frighteningly like Nina stalked off into the shadows muttering about not getting to the good parts yet.

"How did you guess, my darling boy?" Darla asked playfully stroking up his arm.

"Besides the fact that Cordelia and Darla died?" He hissed pulling the woman's hand off his shoulder forcefully. "That Buffy would have likely been more stunned that I'm in bed with Spike than to rant about our old relationship? Or maybe I remember how your little illusions feel."

"Wow, you really get to the heart of things." The brunette woman remarked vaguely impressed. "You know me Angel, I can't just let anybody waltz in, have to see where their state of mind is. Since I can't do that with the fangy ones the dreams are the only path I have left."

"What, did you think I'd risk you going all Angelus on us?" Buffy asked continuing from where Cordelia left off as she brunette had done with Darla.

"Why are you using them to talk for you?" Angel questioned studying the three women who had affected his life the most. "And why are they acting--"

"I can only speak through dreams, I can't appear as myself unless I'm on the person's mind. They represent, in your mind--such as it is--different aspects of your relationships and how you left them." The female vampire said slowly as if Angel couldn't understand the simplest concepts. "Though I think it's certainly educational to know who is on your mind." She smirked at the sprawled figure of Spike. "Can't say I'm caught off guard by this. The clothes clued me in a few decades back."

"Why does everyone assume things because of my clothes?" Angel grumbled pushing away Spike's greedy hands. "There's nothing wrong with taking a little pride in how you look."

"Spike" snorted. "Little pride doesn't mean hogging the loo for hours on end to get your hair all poofy." He snickered. "Your hair's atraighter than you are, peaches."

Even in a dream Spike ignored the angry glares Angel sent him.

"Why would it take a vampire that long without a mirror?" The Cordelia image asked.

"It just takes a while to figure out how you got the hair lined up and--" realizing the ridiculousness of talking about hair care Angel abruptly changed track, "look we don't have time for this."

"I take it you want a favor." Buffy remarked all business now.

"That's putting it mildly."

---------------------------------------- -------------------

"Are you sure?"

"No, I pulled your ass over here because I wanted to jump your bones." Connor flinched at her sarcasm glad that he had given up on his crush on her. She cursed at the small device in the palm of her hand.

"If it's a tracking device shouldn't we crush it?" He ventured since no one had suggested any other options.

"Yeah, like that would do shit." The slayer turned it over face hardening in thought. "If this was on you since our last rumble in the jungle they have to have been following up. We crush it and they'll know we found it. They wouldn't wait it out. Just go all out."

"What do we do?" She didn't answer him.


	27. Chapter 27

**Silvermane1:** Thanks.

**Nika Dawson:** Thanks, it's always great to know when someone likes the story. I'm sorry to say that Spike and Dracula will be in the next chapter though.

**Adjovi:** I've been busy with work lately so sadly that has been keeping me from updating as much as I'd like. I wanted to have Angel confront all his important lovers and seeing how half of them are dead it was the only way. Glad you liked it.

**Micuko:** Is now okay:)

**endiahna:** I'm happy to see that there are people rooting for the Count. I started this fic not just as a sequal to my Spangel one shot but also to see it Spacula (?) was possible. Thank you for the kind words. I do have three possible ending one that has a sequel so we'll see how it goes. Nevertheless Dracula is not going to give Spike up without a fight.

AN: Since I now see that this chapter is shorter than the others (d'oh) I promise I will try to make the upcoming Dracula/Spike chapter(s) longer.

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"Hold on--lemme get this straight--you tossed it off the train?"

"That is correct."

"...Why the hell did you do that for?"

Illyria seemed to frown, which given her usual range of expressiveness was not easy to spot. "This displeases you." She stated.

"Hell yeah blue girl, what gave you that idea? Shit." The slayer cursed pacing the small enclosure that acted as a hallway the best she could.

"I thought you said that it was a bad thing if we broke it. What's wrong with chucking it off the train?" Connor questioned.

He figured he'd have to step in since Illyrias' attention span was known for slipping. Once she had beaten Angel to a pulp for "offending the green" after coming home drunk and apparently puking on the grass. While others came to the fallen vampire's aid, yelling at her Illyria had moved on to squirrel watching. Spike had found the whole thing hilarious.

"We could have ditched our ride and had them track it instead of us. They'll know we're still on the train." Faith bit out. "Screw it, let's get Angel and book it."

"Why did you throw it off?" The youth asked the god king. It seemed odd that she would do such a thing that could possibly lead their enemies to them. Okay he hadn't given the slayers that much credit but he thought she would have.

"The noise was irritating." She said distractedly.

"You do know that it's going to bring them to us." Connor pointed out, he never could be sure how much she had been listening.

"Good. This tedious journey has provided little sport. I welcome a melee though I doubt there is much challenge to be had." Illyria sounded almost disappointed. "Our last encounter had been barely worth my notice. Slayers are supposed to be warriors are they not? Little has been worth my notice in this world and they are among those who do not met the standards of their legends.

Pitiful brats that whine and grab for glory they can not earn rightfully."  
----------------------------

"--that's great but can't you just teleport us to where you are?"

"Can't be done, pet." Sergio answered using Spikes' form. "Make a right mess of things it would. Can't make portals on a whim. All magic has a price. Thought you knew that."

"I have to get to Romania now!"

"For him?" Sergio pointed at the blond vampires' chest. "Or to be the big hero?"

"Just do it!" Angel yelled staddling the nude figure. "He's trapped with Dracula, who like everyone else Spike meets wants to kill him. I--we need him back on our side for the good fight."

"Denial much?" The dream Cordelia huffed. "Hello Angel your attracted to him, just admit it and move on! Sheesh, it's like pulling teeth!"

"Can you do it or not?"

"Teleport you and your friends? Yes. To Romania? No. And while I can do it without ill affects for the innocent bystanders you're forgetting there will be a price to pay." Darlas' image informed him haugthly. "So...do we have a deal?"  
---------------------------------------- --------------------------

_"Did you remember?" Mary asked pointedly, her version of subtle she supposed. _

"Umm." The young woman replied in that non-comment way she tried to get away with. Which was only fair since her watcher had been using it for as long as she could recall.

"I see," sighing she went into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water, "you know better than to skip a dose."

"I don't like them." Carey huffed tossing the small container in her palm. "I hate how they make me feel. No scratch that--how they don't make me feel. I hate being numb."

"I know you do but when you don't take them your moods...I don't want you to do anything rash." 

_"I'm not going to off myself." The girl snorted frowning down at the object of her contempt. "Besides the Council won't be pleased when they find out." _

"I'm not going to risk you and the council can jump in the sodding lake for all I care!" Mary snapped slipping back into her accent like she did when her temper sprang up. Which was becoming a normal occurrence these days. "You are what's important end of story!"

"They wouldn't want an "unstable" slayer, especially not after the Lehane girl."

"You are not "unstable" Carey, medication is simply needed for your depression, it does not make you weak if you need a little help." The older woman reasoned holding out the glass expectantly. "Now are you going to be a stubborn ungrateful wretch or a reasonable civilized young woman and take the damn pills?"

Carey grinned amused by her teacher's own stubbornness. "Fine but I'm only taking one. I want to have some feeling left."  
  
---------------------------------------- ------------------------- 

Snapping the lid shut she crammed the container into her jacket pocket and jammed two pills into her mouth. They were close now to the demons and her body twitched with the promise of action. Jane had been quiet since her talk with Roger lost in her own musings. She would have comforted her friend if she had the time. Right now her object was to stay focus and make sure the others didn't screw up. Seeing Sarah absently toying with her bandages whenever the watcher wasn't looking was making them all uncomfortably aware of the price of failure.

The beckon was growing stronger, at the rate they were traveling they'd be in range in a hour. Success was the only option for any of them now. It was the only thing Carey truly cared about.  
---------------------------------------- --------------------------

Sergio hummed to himself a jaunty little tune while flipping through his text. He took no note of the spell activating the void that would open soon above his humble shop. Angel would be indebted to him and he would come out on top. War in Romania was fast approaching and the one being that could stop it had to have been if not the souled vampire than one of his companions. The information had little value to him, it would however be priceless to the right sources, ones that had been in contact with him for awhile.

Glancing up he paused at the small underground pool of water that slowly began to stir. No one could enter from the outside while he lived. His magic ahould have been strong enough to prevent this. It had been for three hundred years.

The water swirled in an inky ooze that was starting to rise in the air. The demon found himself backing away in alarm as the spiral of water smacked into the ceiling and created a set of watery stairs. Though they did not appear stable enough to support a man one nevertheless stepped down from the liquid platform onto the steps. The large hulking man regarded the chamber soberly before settling on the markings on the floor.

"Ah, I see that you have started the spell for the portal. Will they be arriving soon?"

Sergio nodded. "Yes, then they will belong to your master."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: The poem is from "She walks in beauty" by Lord Byron. Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter I had a formating/word count problem with my computer that I didn't catch until a few moments after I posted it. I will try to write more in the upcoming chapters to make up for it.

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Journal of Dracula- _

For the first time in my long life I am utterly at a loss. How could I have come so close to my goal to have it slip through my fingers like gains of sand in an instant? Spike was devastatingly beautiful in those moments where he obeyed his instincts. Sensual to a fault even in his struggles. His body was divided in it's desires. Leaning into my touch one moment only to recoil the next. I will never forget how the hue of his luminous eyes darkened. Nor the play of the candle light against his alabaster skin. Spike was truly made to be in the darkness and I was willing to explore it further with him.

He denied me! I, Vlad Drăculea, Vlad Ţepeş, the Impaler, Lord of all Vampires denied by William the Bloody! The insult in unbearable to endure yet I must. Of all the cruel and bitter ironies! I am but a slave to his will if I continue thus! I am the master yet he makes me a fool!

I can not comprehend why he fights like he does. Against my favor I could simply for our history, though he will learn to accept it, but against what he is? It is madness. A creature of the night, one that was ruthless should not be denied. Blood is our life, our way, our passion. Without it we crease to be anything of importance. And yet Spike refuses. Why?

Does the soul weaken the body to the point one is not what it once was? If true I should have no further desire for him. Yet I find it fascinating. What manner of creature is Spike? He is not human to be certain. He is not the vampire I once fought against either. How does one approach such a riddle?  
  
---------------------------------- 

He had refused to leave his room for any reason after the blood incident. Not just because he didn't want to be apart of Draculas' little games. Truth was that Spike was disgusted with himself. He had almost given in to the lure of the human blood...and the promise of more. He'd like to think he was stronger than that. It had been a near thing.

What would Buffy have thought? Spike snorted, he knew what she would have thought. What about Angel? He paused from his restless pacing to think on this. Would Angel have understood if Spike had given in to the temptation to drink? He should have since the great poof had in the past, not to mention a few other urges he was supposed to deny himself. Angel conveniently forgot those times however when Spike was the one being put on trial.

Spike has a soul? Well, Angel had one first. Spike slept with Buffy (more than once) Angel actually had her love him. In fact he had two birds that loved him and a kid he magically got rewarded for attempting to lose his soul. Spike had...well he had an old one that liked having him as a pet. That was about it. The lack of anything made him feel overwhelmingly insignificant like always. He didn't even have a destiny to call his own. Spike made his own path.

All he currently had to show for his "champion" status was a great be heap of no-body-gives-a-shit. Angel had made that clear. Spike was never an equal, just a weapon, a grunt, and a sex toy when no one else was present. Here he was losing his footing unsure of the rules of the game and trying to do his best to adapt. It was what he did.

Sighing Spike left the large bathroom he had been lingering in to inspect the window. Normally it had been covered but he had thought that it might have been overlooked when the spells were placed. It wasn't.

When he stepped back inside the main part of his chambers Spike saw the door shutting close behind the maid. Not caring one bit what she had wanted he almost slipped into a chair then recalling who had last sat in it jumped up as if electrocuted. That scent was still present with the blood. It should not have affected Spike like this.

Spike regretted his choice to barricade himself now. Too many thoughts about what could have happened. Would he have been led over to the bed to give into Dracula? Become his bitch once he had taste the glorious human lifeblood? Spike shuddered not liking these thoughts. The images weren't helping either. All to clear he could see himself blanketed by the Counts' body (which he told himself would be covered in boils and frail) doing what ever he could to please the elder in his own drunken fashion.

Attempting to distract himself from those awful thoughts Spike glanced at the flowers and frowned. They had been changed again. Now they weren't even roses nor poppies. At first he thought they were weeds. The leaves had a blue-green feathery appearance while the petals were yellow. Spike noted that the smell was somewhat strong now that he wasn't distracted by what had almost happened. He had suspected that his suitor had a hidden meaning but wasn't sure until stared at this arrangement.

_No, he wouldn't...yes, he would_, Spike thought when realization hit him as the pieces clicked into place.

In his day, in the Victorian era to be exact, there had been a language of flowers. There would be coded meanings with the arrangements from the giver to the receiver that simply could not be spoken. He--William--had thought that rot was ever so romantic. Never got any use out of it. He had been too much of a coward to tell Cecily in any manner until that fateful night. Dru wavered between adoring flowers and freaking out about them. Buffy...she never would have accepted them from him.

His chest tightened as he touched the sunny petals. No one had ever given him something like this. Gifts that were given to him had been mad affect like ripped body parts, pink unicorns (because he LOVED those) and second hand amulets that burned him to dust. No one had ever...

_They really should clean this sodding place better it's too dusty_, Spike thought absently rubbing his watery eyes. Silly nonsense was what it was.

Focusing on the flowers he thought about the types he had been given. Blue poppies. Which meant...mystery, right? That didn't seem right, Spike bloody well knew who they were from. Of course they also meant--attaining the impossible. He visibly swallowed the lump in his throat as he sank heavily into the chair not even considering who had sat in it before him.

Tosser thought he was "the impossible"? Wanted a challenge, stupid git, see how he likes it when Spike got free. Right, what was next? The coral roses. Passion and desire. Like he needed that pointed out to him. Spike had see close up and personal like how badly the Count wanted to bugger him.

Last was this one, which Spike guess was Rue meaning regret. Hold on a tick, Dracula regretted their "date"? He snorted. Yeah, regretted that he hadn't gotten laid like he wanted.  
--------------------------------------

"Not in the mood, junior." Really he had just needed a bit of fresh air. Strange that the guards hadn't bothered him. Supposed they knew by now that he'd fight back if pressed. Peter still sporting his injuries handed him a note, head cocked in a curious manner. As if awaiting an important answer.

"Yeah, fine." Spike replied to the scribbled words. The boy added more sticking his tongue out as if in great concentration. Rereading his childish handwriting to no doubt proof read it (which Spike found strangely amusing) he held it up as if for inspection. Spikes' humor slipped and hardened face hardened. "No, I am **not** his new love."

Peter frowned half puzzled and a little disappointed. "_Why not_?" He wrote back.

"I bleeding hate the git!" He really did not want to get into this with a child but he was persistent as hell.

"_He likes you."_ Was quickly written as if that by his logic should be enough of an answer.

"Really doesn't, 'sides isn't it past your bedtime, shorty?" He wandered off with an air of finality only to find himself in the stables glaring at one stallion in particular. Images from those choice whispers made Spike feel ill. Peter had time to catch up by then with a thunderous expression etched across his features. He thrust the note back at Spike, and feeling a tad guilty for ditching the lad he read.

"_The master will treat you good. You will like it here and be happy. I want you to be. To stay_." When Spike finished he saw the boy limping angrily away. Bugger it all. Why did he have to have the little ones get attached to him when he couldn't be who they wanted him to be? Spike tried so many times to fit the roles others wanted and was tired of it. Even now he wanted to comfort the boy but knew it was pointless. Couldn't promise anything. Can't agree with what he knew would never happen.

The troublesome horse grunted at him earning himself Spike's deadly glare. Feeling delightfully reckless at the moment he advanced on the creature until he stood with only the gate between them. Flashing his fangs Spike smiled nastily at the beast. "Think it's funny, eh? Let's see how funny you think it is when I'm picking you out of me teeth."

Alright, so he was talking to a horse but he still had his dignity damn it!

"I find you in the most delightful situations." Spike bit back a groan, that bird always managed to sneak up on him at the worst times.

"Wot of it?" He challenged defensively.

"I did not come here for confrontation." Anselina promised. At his expectant look she added: "I bring an invitation."

He should have thought more of what she was plotting, truth be told he hadn't cared a wit. Soon he found himself chucking back drinks with the brides tipsy enough not to notice their lingering hands. "--course I kicked his arse! Big and forehead couldn't hold his own--well fight-like, I'd imagine he does the other bit often now."

The women giggled, one boldly sitting in his lap planting a kiss that missed his lips slightly when his head dropped back to recline further into the chair. Anselina had claimed that this party of theirs would help Spike relax. He was quite certain that what ever her scheme was had got shot to hell by the other brides groping him. She had argued with them but they hadn't given a damn. Frustrated Anselina had left Spike alone with the other women. Vaguely he was aware of them speaking in Romania thinking he was ignorant of their talks. He smirked to himself.

"This is a foolish notion that is doomed to fail." One hissed in the foreign tongue.

"The master will be upset if we have him before he does." Another agreed.

"That is not the plan." The third argued. She had been the one agreeing with Anselina about...something.

"Then what is?" A fourth, male voice asked startling them all. At the doorway stood Dracula smelling slightly of alcohol and furiously gazing at the bride straddling Spike. She had finally made contact with Spikes' lips when Dracula had entered. Meekly she slipped off.

"Well? I am awaiting your answer."

"We were getting him ready for you, my lord." The one who had being using him as a chair replied still in Romanian.

"By getting him to take a leave of his senses?" Dracula inquired, Spike chose that moment to giggle. "Such as they are."

"We--"

"Silence! Leave at once." Hastily the women left the two alone together.

"Going to try an' get me, poofter?" Spike remarked talking to the spot over Draculas' left shoulder.

As tempting as you are in your crass, unbearable, drunkard way," here Spike belched causing Dracula to grimace, "I will have to decline."

"I'm a sexy beast alright." The blond nodded apparently thinking he had been flattered.

"You have made yourself more of a fool tonight than usual." The Count said flatly half dragging Spike down the hallway. He could order the guards to take Spike from him but he did not think it prudent to get them away from their post for this. Hans and Jon had not recovered from their last fight with the blond yet and he did not trust his brides alone with Spike either. Not when he had witness their display. They would speak on that once he had locked Spike away for the night. He had wanted to talk with the younger vampire about the confusion of their last shared meal only to find him in this state.

"Shouldn't a' drank that fast, makes me sick it does." The younger vampire confessed a second before bursting into giggles at the sight of the ruined painting that Madam Drake had yet to take down. Doing his best to ignore the unflattering crudely done image of himself he ushered the other man to his chambers.

"We will speak when you are sober--get off the table this instant!--until then--I do not care what you witnessed a watcher doing--sleep." He rubbed his forehead staring at Spike who it appeared had the attention span of a gnat.

"S'kay." Spike said flopping onto the bed fulling dressed. Sluggishly he yanked his shirt off surprisingly not strangling himself in the process like the other man believed he would. In the moonlight his smooth skin gleamed and his heavy lidded eyes shone.

"Luminous." The darker one heard himself whisper reverently.

"Liked effulgent." Spike muttered senselessly, laying on top of the covers half naked with his curled hair framing his face. Never had he been as angelic looking as he did now. He shamed cherubs with his beauty and now innocent appearing face.

Dracula never had felt such an urge to take advantage of a situation where his intended was not in entirely in the right state of mind. He did not consider the tempting of the blood to be one as blood was a part of who they were. Without knowing how he found himself seated on the bed speaking words that minus the sex of the subject suited Spike perfectly. He changed them regardless to suit the object of his affections.

"HE walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in his aspect and his eyes:  
Thus mellow'd to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies"

Truer words had never been spoken. Spike eyelids closed yet he smiled faintly. He passionately recited the next verse correctly making Dracula feel vaguely impressed. Even more so since the words were not slurred.

"One shade the more, one ray the less,  
Had half impair'd the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress,  
Or softly lightens o'er her face;  
Where thoughts serenely sweet express  
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place."

Unable to help himself the Count nuzzled the blonds' neck provoking a sigh of contentment from him. The Count kissed his cheek and brow halting when he stared at the lips. Those taunting lush lips that he longed to silence and taste. He wanted to kiss them yet he couldn't. Not like this. He would have Spike when he had earned the victory.

Retreating with one last glance at what he planned on being his prize Dracula thought on the flowers he'd give tomorrow. Burgundy roses perhaps. It seemed appropriate.


	29. Chapter 29

**Nika Dawson:** Thank you. Peter really likes the idea of Spike/Dracula as it means that Spike will be able to stay. I always had the idea in mind for Dracula to recite poetry to Spike as I think Spike would inspire these feelings that he'd have to express in terms Spike would understand. Well he would have then if he wasn't drunk. :P Here's the new chapter.

**11Melpomene:** I know what you mean, Spike/Angel is the only slash pairing I read in this fandom and if not for the challenge of writing Spike/Dracula I might never have grown so fond of this pairing too. The best thing I hear is when readers say they don't know who to root for because I don't want to make this a "Dracula is just trying to steal Spike away from Angel, we hate him" fic. Sadly Peter is not in this chapter though he is mentioned. Spike and Dracula are however. Thanks for commenting. :)

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His head was bleeding killing him when Madam Drake came in slamming the door behind her. Wincing he tried to bury his head in the endless amount of pillows. The stupid bint was having none of it not having the decency to flee when he slipped into game face.

"Get dressed, we have a busy day ahead of us." She announced stiffly going to the dresser to no doubt chose something suitable for Spike to wear.

"Bugger off." The vampire grumbled hugging the largest pillow tightly to his chest.

"We could have used you to help us prepare, THAT would have made sense, but the master has to have you looking your best today." She muttered to herself tossing a pair of boots to the floor. He winced curling more into the pillow in an attempt to block out the sound. "He makes the worst choices when his libido is in charge."

"Hey now--!" Spike whined when his arm was pulled forcibly up. "You're enjoying this a bit much, pet."

"If I had my way you would be locked up." Madam Drake replied heatedly. "What did you say to him?"

"Say to--oh." Feeling a little somber at the mention of Peter, Spike sat up straighter. "Kid thinks me and Mr. Movie star are an item. Thinks we should be, that I'd like it."

Spike laughed bitterly.

"You could if you had sense enough to realize what the master could offer you. Many would die for such a thing." She bought over her selection of clothes.

"Many have." He countered darkly.

"Peter adores you," the woman confessed softly, "I suppose you remind him of his father."

"'M like him eh?"

"Not really. He was english however and like you he wasn't found of the master. Didn't think it was a proper place to raise a family. It is our family legacy." Her eyes challenged him yet he wisely remained silent on the subject.

"Wot am I supposed to be all posh for? Another round of the wankers' pathetic attempts to woo me, is it?" Spike said instead. Ignoring his jibe at her employer, though her eyes revealed her outrage, she answered mildly:

"The manor is honored to receive an much anticipated guest. The Elder of the master's favorite tribe." While he knew there had to be more to it than that by her relieved tone Spike let it pass for now. Who knew, it could be the chance he ad been waiting for.  
-------------------------------

Dracula stood expectantly when the frail looking woman entered. Normally he would await guest in his study or such. Having traveled such a distance through peril and working her magicks in attempt to free those under the spell had been straining on her. That and his concern for Elsa had made him skip such trivial matters.

"I have broken the spell with great difficulty I might add." The old woman said taking his hand to be guided into a nearby seat. "This Mihai lives up to his claims. His powers is truly impressive. They will need time to rest from the ordeal, to recover, as will I."

Her dull eyes suddenly became alive with fire when she regarded the Count. "Though that can wait as I heard a very intriguing tale. You are currently engaged in a romance with a man, eh? The girls must love that. They certainly have been demanding it for enough years."

He sighed, this woman was one of the few that he ever allowed to treat him in such a manner. She had been descended from his beloved Magda mirroring her in appears only. She adored poking fun at him and enjoyed gossip. Since her youth his brides had told her many embarrassing stories. Luckily they had an arrangement where she would only speak of these things within his clan.

"You know why I resisted for so long." Her smile vanished as she cupped his hand.

"Yes, I do not make little of your past loss merely delighted in such lovely images it invokes. Forgive an old woman for enjoying her fantasies." At his nod she grinned shamelessly. "He's your prisoner I hear? The one you have chained to do your commands? Now that does paint a pretty picture."

"Adela!" The vampire exclaimed clearly scandalized.

"Speaking of him, am I correct in assuming that he is William the Bloody?" He paused then with a sigh said he was. "He is a highly unusual vampire from what I hear, having fought off the pains of the bands of binding. To say nothing of your past run ins with him."

She chuckled at his sour look. "In a more serious light, he might present a problem. I sense something is amiss with the spells I placed in his confinement."

"They have been working properly, Adela. He has not escaped." When the old woman made to argue she noted his attention slipping from her. The masters' face softened and she turned to see what had captured him so. Coming into the main foyer just where they were was a man flanked by two nervous guards and Madam Drake.

The man was very striking with his light brown curly hair highlighted with blond stands. Tight leather pants, and a rich scarlet shirt completed the look making him appear quite regal. She wouldn't have guessed the identity of him if not for the hunger written on the masters' face. Remembering himself the Count took her hand to guide her for introductions. Never one to wait Adela beat him to the punch.

"William the Bloody, we haven't seen your like since you last dined in Romania." She remarked tartly feeling the need to test him. His flinched before his face smoothed into disinterest.

_That will require looking into later on_.

"It's Spike now." Smirking at the older vampire his scarred eyebrow rose in amusement. "This another of your birds, mate?"

"Hardly, I prefer men being more lively." The old woman remarked earning a devilish grin from the prisoner and a scowl from Dracula.

"That a fact? Good for you then, luv. Shows you got taste."

"We all have taste, however some of ours are more...," she paused to glance at Dracula with a secret smile, "...refined than others."

This Spike was an odd one to be certain, his aura had a quality that she couldn't pinpoint in her current restless state. No matter, she would later once she rested. "I will take my leave of you to retire. No," pulling away from the dark lords' grip she beckoned the two guards, "you will do. Hmm, your guards have gotten prettier since my last visit."

Watching her lead the uncomfortable men away Spike chuckled. "Cheeky bird."

Turning to Dracula he caught an unreadable look and the smile slipped. He had memories of the night before that he had thought were drunken dreams. It didn't seem likely now that he saw the Count checking him out. When Madam Drake instructed him to follow her outside he gladly went. To his dismay his admirer walked beside him distracting Spike from noticing where they were going. Normally the champion would have complained, fought or snarked about being led around. At the moment he was far too distracted to pay attention properly.

When they had reached their destination Spike finally took in his surroundings. They were a good distance from the castle yet still within the walls of the lords' property. Large inviting trees covered the area with a pond at it's center. In an opening above the water the moon shone down casting a glow on the surface. A blanket covered the ground near the pond littered with items and not far off was a carriage being pulled by a familiar horse.

"Bloody hell." Spike whispered, because really what else could he say when his foe had outdone his past lovers with such a gesture. Not that the other man had much to compete with.

"Sit with me." Dracula said extending his hand.

"Uh, no thanks, fine right here." This situation was surreal enough without indulging Mr. Legend.

"If you fear for your virtue that much Spike I could ask Madam Drake to stay to chaperon us." The amusement in his rivals' voice caused Spike to bristle.

"Like I would ever let you touch me."

"Wonderful. Madam Drake you may take your leave."

Not wanting to lose face Spike awkwardly walked up to the edge of the blanket plopping down with an air of irritation. Searching for a means to keep his nerves under wraps he plucked up a box to discover it's contents. Inside sitting in perfect uniform rolls were chocolates with a selection of fillings.

"You seem out of sorts tonight, whatever is wrong Spike?" Dracula tone seemed to imply that he thought he knew what the source was, smug bastard.

" 'M out with your pompous arse with a bleeding hangover, 'course 'm outta sorts." The not so blond vampire shot back snatching a candy to shove into his mouth. Hmm, not bad at all.

"Oh how you suffer." The lord murmured drawing in closer as Spike drew back. "You truly are frightened of me, are you not?" His eyes issued a silent challenge.

"No, I am not afraid of you." Spike replied in a close imitation of Draculas' accent. "You...arrogant git!" Not his finest insult but he had been drawing a blank.

Far from hurt, looking mildly intrigued the Count drew a chocolate of his own from the box. "You have such...interesting endearments for me, Spike. I think it's only fitting that I return the favor." A look of bliss passed over his face momentary distracting the younger man. "Ah, I know. Perhaps I should call you, beauty."

Spike scowled not noting how the distance between them was slowly being closed. "Call me that again wanker and we'll see how you like me foot up your arse."

"No?" The mock puzzlement cleared to reveal an intense burning gaze that if he breathed would have left Spike breathless. "Would you prefer stallion perhaps?"

The souled vampires' face heated feeling a William like urge to die of embarrassment even as his voice denied it. "Calling me after one of your horsies? Thought you were supposed to be better at this seducing, yeah?"

"All of my beasts have names, this one--," Dracula motioned to the horse that had been giving Spike grief, " is called Ganymede after--"

"--The cup bearer of Zeus." Spike finished understanding making his stomach churn. Ganymede was more than that in the myths of the gods. He was kidnapped to be the lover of Zeus too. Which meant that the creature that had been compared to him...oh bugger.

"Yes, he was." The Count said clearly impressed. "You must have had a classical upbringing, William."

"Well yes--yeah did." No one commented on his human life much and to be called by his birth name without "the bloody" attached to it felt odd. There was no taunting in the manner it was said. No "sorry" either nor "you're beneath me." Funny how the only one to treat him with respect hadn't been someone he'd been pining for. Maybe funny wasn't the right word, it did seem sort of tragic now that he thought about it.

"You are more complex than I ever dreamed, each new piece I discover only bringing another question. I must know who you are." Fingers traced Spikes' jaw with a softness he had not expected. "I tried in vain to tell myself that my interest is merely physical yet I must--have to learn your secrets. Why do I feel this way, William?"

The confession startled him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Never having experience with people expressing such desires to him in sane manners he had nothing to compare it to. Never had it occurred to him that Dracula would admit much less feel anything beyond sexual attraction to him. He would have thought it a trick if not for the lost expression on the other mans' face. In the midst of his own panic attack Spike's mind came to a sudden halt when a pair of lips covered his own.

They were far softer than he would think given the age of the man kissing him. The tenderness shocked him as well. Not the frantic biting type he would have thought. Spike still too stunned hadn't moved as the Count cupped the back of his head drawing him in closer. Long fingers slipped into his locks gripping them steady as a tongue tried to seek entrance. Gasping at the sensation Spike unknowingly gave permission as Dracula plundered his mouth. The taste of chocolate swirled with the essence of the other man. The power of the ancient vampire made Spikes' demon swoon almost as much as the faint undercurrents of blood. Human blood.

Distantly he realized that he was being moved but he simply couldn't think straight. Not with those lips, clever tongue and hands caressing him. Hands? Oh right, one of the pair that had been holding his head in place had wandered to feel Spike through the silk shirt. He should stop this, after all he hated the--the--oh that felt brilliant. Spike moaned when the hand slid up his hip and under his shirt to touch bare skin. It felt like an age since he had last been touched. Lips detached from his leaving the two men to gasp unneededly. Not allowed a moment to clear his head Spike groaned at the small scatter of kisses being bestowed on him from brow to exposed throat. He should do something to stop this, he knew it, but he was too confused. Never thought it would feel so good.

The kiss became a nibble making his knees go weak. His neck was too sensitive for his own good. The blunt human teeth felt incredible but it was the two sharp fangs that were so close to breaking his skin that left Spike dizzy. It was a tease however as if Dracula were showing him what he could do and that he could restrain himself. Spike struggled to push away not liking where this was headed yet two hands refused to release their burden. Pulled tighter Spikes' foggy mind picked up that he was now seated on the other mans' lap. A warning sign went off in his head and with a greater effort he pushed out of the embrace.

Moving off back onto the blanket Spike stared wide eyed at Dracula who regarded him through heavy lids absently licking his swollen lips. Every inch of Spikes' body that had been touched burned while his lips tingled. He was panting unable to form a suitable insult for this incident. How could he when he could still taste Dracula?


	30. Chapter 30

**Nika Dawson:** Yep. Dracula wants more and is willing to tap into his skills as a seducer to get Spike to come around. Here's the next chaper. ;)

**11Melpomene:** Thank you, I'm glad I could get some readers interested in Spike/Dracula. Spike is going and will go on being confused in his treatment. Poor boy never had such tenderness before.

**Endiahna:** Work has been keeping me from updating as often as I would like. Hopefully I'll get more chapters out soon.

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Taking in the sight of this beauty--male beauty--panting for unneeded breath sorely tempted him to take the other man in his arms again. It had felt right to hold him, to have their bodies wrapped together where they fit so perfectly. Where Dracula now had no doubt that they belonged. One taste, one embrace would it never be enough? He had no idea what was beginning with them nor where it could lead. There had been honesty with Spike when he said that it was not simply a physical attraction. Finally admitting out loud had been the final step of accepting it. The other man was on his mind constantly, making matters that should be of the highest regard pale in comparison. To what end he still was not certain. Perhaps he would be done with Spike once and for all when they finally gave in to their urges. He could only hope at this point.

Spike was starting to return the attraction, he was sure of it. Towards the end the other vampire had been gripping him closer while struggling not to respond to the kiss. For the first time in their encounters Spike now was truly speechless, the thought brought a slight smile to the Counts' face. If that was what it took to keep him quiet Dracula would take great pleasure in silencing him in the future. His hand suddenly moved on it's on accord to trace the other's face. Spike trembled at the touch before jerking his head away.

_Skittish as a newborn colt_, Dracula mused.

Gently he cupped that beautiful face to turn towards him. More forcibly Spike fought against him hissing, "Let me go!" in a pained way that acted like a smack. Spike looked like a stranger then, because he had certainly never appeared that vulnerable in his presence previously. Stripped of his bravado, with no duster, or bleached hair hide behind he was not longer the rebellious devil may care brat the Count thought of him as. He was a man, perhaps who this William was as a human, maybe not. This passionate being that never gave up against impossible odds and common sense. Who could be as fierce as a lion one moment and tender with a child the next. Lived for the fight, adored poetry and was perhaps the crudest man Dracula had ever know.

A vampire that loved so deeply that he had done the unthinkable act of winning himself a soul. The same soul that Dracula could see shining in those expressive eyes. He knew he was doomed then. There was no escaping the inevitable and he had grown exceedingly tired of the constant struggle against it anyway. The rivalry, the long feud between them had shifted since taking Spike as his prisoner. He was not the annoying lesser vampire anymore, not a bargaining chip to ensure his revenge, not even a body to be used and to be rid of once his lust was sated. He shared Spikes' confusion yet he was adapting to these strange changes. Dracula now accepted the fate he knew he was doomed to, that any fool with eyes could see.

That he was in the process of falling deeply, madly in love with Spike and nothing could stop it. Part of him wanted to rally against it hating to be forced against his sanity to fall into such a thing. How could someone he used to disregard easily overtake his mind so completely? Spike was not the sort to be forgotten though. Loud, blunt, childish, brave, willful, caring...how could he resist? The schism of his character was alluring with it's complexities. A former feared scourge turned champion of the weak and yet...Dracula felt protective of him. The urge to take the frightened unsure man into his arms was overwhelming.

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Spike shivered hating to know that it wasn't from the chill in the wind. His head had yet to come back down from the clouds leaving him reeling from the dizziness. Damn sell out, why did the poof have to kiss him? Why did he have to like it? Why did he now want to do things that Harris' crappy static set couldn't pick up with the dark tosser? This was bad, this was Illyria-found-out-you-killed-her-roses bad. A million thoughts ran through Spike head ranging from punches, fleeing over the hill to old fashion insults. However all these meaningless ideas fade when sharp fathomless eyes meet his before flickering to his kissed bruised mouth.

_Sod it all if that wasn't the best kiss I had in_--Dracula appears to be a mind reader as he ducked his head to descend upon Spike lips again. Resistance crumbled soon and Spike briefly wondered why his hands were tangled up in the Van Helsing rejects' hair. Oh right, they were snogging.

Nails scrapped against his skin alerting Spike that his shirt was being pulled up. Oddly the Count had managed to lay Spike on his back and was draped over him like a second skin. Stomach exposed eager fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt. It was all going too fast for his brain to catch up with. He just knew that he liked being treated like he was something to be treasured. That was too rare. He found that he craved it with an intensity that he never knew he possessed. Skilled hands drew the folds of his shirt apart to rain kisses from neck downwards. Spikes' eyes slipped open to watch Dracula treat his nipples to teasing nips. It was wrong, he knew it but hell if it didn't feel amazing.

Sensual licks were given slipping into his naval when the darker man met Spikes' stunned gaze. Without glancing away his fingers slid down to the fastening of the leather trousers.

"Master, you are needed!" Came a shriek jolting both vampires. Muttering about timing Dracula sighed, casted a regretful look at Spike and went to the woman who had called him.

Spike on the other hand didn't care what the big crisis was, he was relieved that things hadn't gotten further with Don Juan over there. That's what he told himself.

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Dracula had been short with Madam Drake, informing her to escort Spike back to the castle and flying off without hearing her reply. He had not dared to glance back at Spike lest his temptation to ravish him take hold again. Hopefully whatever had upset Adela would be worth the interruption. He sincerely doubted it. Seeing the old woman waiting for him on the balcony in her robes looking haggard made him feel slightly ashamed for putting his love life in front of his people.

"Adela, what news do you bring?"

"Nothing good, it appears Mihai has used ancient magic and is opening a portal. I'm not worn out enough to miss the count of arrives though. We're lucky the numbers are so low. He could bring an army next."

"Can you--"

"I need to gather my strength which I might remind you is severally weakened at the moment." She glared pointedly. "I think it best if we discussed options now to prepare for the worst."

The Dark lord had to grace to appear humbled by her words. He should have been the one to think of their next move and would have been if not for more pleasant distractions.

"All in good time." Adela answered as if knowing what he was pondering. For the next three hours the pair made plans for the battles to come. Half an hour in Adela said that she felt out of sorts but insisted that it had to be pushed aside until they finished. Once done and satisfied with the results Dracula found a butler fidgeting in the hallway. Behind him stood his beloved brides all appearing rather nervous.

"Tell me." He immediately demanded.

"Sir, it seems that Spike...he..." The butlers' eyes refused to meet his. Growing impatient Dracula grabbed the man by his collar lifting him with one hand into the air.

"What about Spike?"

"He...he...he is no where to be found my lord!" The man cried out in blind panic. In his shock Dracula dropped the man causing a yelp to issue from him.

"That is not possible." The vampire lord whispered. "Search again!"

"This would explain the disturbance I felt if true." Adela remarked earning a harsh look from the dark man that made the others in the hallways recoil.

"You were suppose to keep Spike contained, Adela." He hissed dangerously advancing on her menacingly. "You claimed that you were up to the task!"

Obviously not liking his tone the Elder snorted, "IF Spike has broken the barrier that would mean that I did not have all the facts about him when I cast the spell. Which I recall mentioning to you."

"You never--" She cut off his denial with an annoyed jerk of her hand.

"I most certainly did. Did I or did I not ask you if he was Angelus? Did I not tell you that I worried about the enchantments I did not working? Did I not mention Spikes' aura bring off?" When he was unable to refute her questions she dared to come closer to him. "I cast a spell to enclose all vampires that were not part of your clan. A standard one that works within your borders since you have a home in one select location, otherwise my clan would cast it more often." The gypsy muttered the last part ruefully to herself.

"It should last, IF Spike is your average run of the mill vampire. The spell works for vampires you see because of what they lack, I had to do a slight revision to make sure your family wouldn't be affected. However the only one I knew of that it wouldn't affect entirely was Angelus. He has what would truly screw up this protection...tell me, does Spike have a soul?"

Dracula was speechless.

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Hours ago Spike had fled what he liked to think of as "the scene of the crime" before Madam Drake had finished speaking with the wanker. After an half an hour of wandering he had ran smack into an invisible wall. Cursing his luck he punched his fists into it in frustration. It was the last straw in a truly fantastic day (he was being sarcastic, mind) and wanted nothing more than something to pound into. He had lost count of how many days he had been trapped within these walls. There had been no way out. To make matters worse his hope of being rescued was dashed everyday. Not that he didn't pride himself on being his own man but a bloke could use some assistance every now and then.

Angel didn't care, not that it was entirely surprising, it still hurt. Would have thought that he would have come with Blue, and Junior by now. Dracula had been putting the moves on Spike and the younger vampire had actually started to like it. A lot. This was very bad. It was badness, badness-y.

_Good god, now I sound like a Scooby._ He shuddered and hit harder, not caring that he had drawn blood. His wrists burned and cricked. With a punch that vibrated throughout his entire being he screamed as his first slipped through the barrier. The guards had discovered him, shouting but Spike was too busy searching for the crack he had created. Seizing the solid energy he could feel crackling between his fingers. He pushed throwing his whole weight behind it. The wall gave more room for him to slip through sending him crashing to the ground on the other side. The men raced after him failing to find the crack that Spike had created and slamming against it with a sickening crunch. Spike stood there for an uncertain moment then nodded as if he had beaten them himself.

"That's right." To himself Spike added, "Good plan." as if he had come up with the accident days ago.

Besides himself with giddiness at his new freedom Spike took no time rushing off into the unknown. It hadn't occurred to him that he simply didn't know North from South. He didn't have much in the ways of a plan though he never really did. Spike was more of a "making it up as I go along" sort. Plans were rubbish that could be thrown out anyway. At least that was what he believed. Two and a half hours had past before he started to doubt his philosophy.

The thrill of escape had worn off some and he was pretty sure he was going in circles. Stupid frilly shirt prat, it was all his fault for putting the make on him! Another half an hour later Spike had added Angel, the Scoobies, Buffy, Drusilla, Darla and countless others to his blame list. Not simply content to rage at his current plight he fumed added past wrongs too. He'd forgotten why exactly it was Angels' fault that he had ended up souled, a ghost, and now walking the Romanian country side--but he had no doubts Angel was to blame.

Stupid Pounce with his pointy stupid hair! Hi, I'm Angel the broody Avenger! Everyone likes me and praises me because I had everything given to me for being a good puppet! If I'm really good and don't kill too many people I'll be a real boy someday! Which means I'll get to look at me face in the mirror for hours and poof my hair longer.

Amused at his own thoughts Spike didn't hear them until it was too late. If he had he might have avoided the falling rocks. The last voice he heard was a gruff man telling them that they had one of Dracula's whores.

_Son of a..._


	31. Chapter 31

**Tanya Potter:** Spike never has it easy, does he?

**Nika Dawson:** You'll get an idea of what's going to happen in this chapter. Not the whole picture though.

**Spikemyangel:** Dracula really is, I love writing him when he's in a seducing mood but as you'll see he's...dealing with Spikes' escape. We'll see if he managed to woo Spike properly in time. ;) Well I posted this story elsewhere and got some more reviews. I love them, and they kept me encouraged to write more but right now I'm having fun writing. :) BTW love your name.

**11Melpomene:** I was thinking at one stage about doing something like that but that would be like Chosen wouldn't it? Which really would be like sweet revenge for Spike...nah. Yeah, that was my nod to Spikes' brillant Glory escape "plan."

**Endiahna:** Is that a good "oh" or a bad "oh"?

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"Love is a fire.  
But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house,  
you can never tell."  
Joan Crawford

The shock of Spikes' escape and the reason it had been possible had worn off the Count. Resentment had began to stir in it's absences. Had he been played with? Made a fool of by a cunning plot he had not thought Spike capable of providing? He was furious, snapping at anyone who dared to come near him. Thoughts of making Spike pay for this unforgivable insult kept other more dangerous pondering at bay. Dracula refused to consider that other than injured pride he felt a deeper sort of wound from Spikes' behavior. He would not allow himself to think of it in his righteous anger.

He was certain that he wanted the younger vampire to be brought back to the castle though what would happen then even he did not know. It would have to wait in any case. Neglecting his duties for that lying brat had put his people at serious risk. They would have to come first.

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A swift punch to the face acted as a wake up call for Spike. Which granted wasn't as out of the norm for him as it would be for most. Still he winced, more of a reflex than at the actual pain. He was in a tent, gypsy from the look of it, smelling of herbs and spices. Giving his arms a testing tug confirmed his suspicions about being tied up.

_From one bleeding cell to another_, Spike mused not really surprised at this turn of events. Why should he be when it seemed to be the story of his life?

Hovering above him was a grinning man with horrible yellowish teeth. The malice in his beady black eyes told him right away this fellow would take great pleasure in doing him real harm. This was confirmed a second later when he smacked Spike with something hard enough to make his ears ring.

"Ah, the tyrants' whore awakens. Good. I'd hate for you to miss any of this."

"'M not that wankers' whore you–!" The vampire howled when a searing white hot pain shot though his stomach. Unable to stop himself from glancing down he found the source, chuckling bitterly to himself through clenched teeth. It would be hot pokers.

"Think this is humorous little bitch?" Another poker was embedded into his stomach ripping another cry from Spike. "I suppose you and your master play such games." The mans' disgust was apparent from his features though the twist he gave one of the metal bars drove this point home.

"Not his...never...would..." Spike denied.

"Ha! Even if our own vampires hadn't confirmed his scent--HIS desire and yours mingled together--your pretty clothes say differently than your lying mouth!"

Spike realized then that he had never buttoned up his shirt since Dracula had undone it. Strange thought to be having really when thick streams of blood were oozing down his skin onto the clothes. Shame really, he liked those pants.

"N-not his...bitch...you sick fu--!" He screamed. A vicious slice of another heated metal, a knife Spike guessed, cut into his flesh. Slowly peeling away the flesh like an apple skin. For the next hour his tormentor put his tools down to give the more personal touch of beating his victim. Once in a while he would remember himself enough to ask a question. Spike didn't know what the hell he was talking about most of the times. Some he did know like the defense set up in the castle. Attempting to flee and testing the limits of his prison had taught him a great deal. Knowledge that he would not reveal to this bastard.

Not that he cared for the Pounce of darkness, mind. Spike didn't want Peter or some of those other misguided people to get hurt. They'd likely get worse if this Mihai bloke had people as nasty as this ugly arse.

Though his bouts of slipping in and out of conscious Spike heard men coming in to ask how the session was going. He added his own commentary when he could glad that he could enrage the Angelus wannabe though he really shouldn't. The results were always the same. When daylight crept up he was left alone unable to tend his gaping wounds. No blood had been given to him and Spike felt the familiar fear from his chipped days. Living skeletons with distorted minds...he could almost hear the screams echoing from the Masters' cells. Darla had thought it a good lesson to teach the young ones. His poor Dru had wailed for days afterwards.

Around what he supposed would be noon a younger better looking human entered the tent closing the flap just before Spikes' leg was able to catch fire. He wouldn't say the man was handsome but compared to he torturer he was Johnny Depp. It reality he was pretty average, sort of bloke you would expect to blend in with the back round. Yet he acted like he was someone of great importance.

"You...Mih-something?"

The man didn't seem to know if to be pleased or not about the question. "No, I am not."

Spike snorted having expected as much. The human gave him a withering glance before going on. "I am however part of his council, they call me Dragos. I have heard that you have given Liviu...difficulty."

"Going t'...try your hand mate...?" Spike gasped out.

"I'm not the patient sort to be much good at finding answers like this." Dragos replied pointedly not looking at the gleaming instruments of torture left on tray to his left. "And Liviu can get too carried away with his job."

Spike chuckled hoarsely sounding more like a coughing fit than a laugh.

"He says you claim to have no ties to," his face twisted out of it's passive facade to reveal blindly hate as he spit out, "Dracula." Composing himself Dragos went on with a noticeable twitch in his jaw. "If you are not his paramour what are you?"

"Like I told...the bloke with the pokers...m' a prisoner..."

"Can you prove this?" His tone said it all, he didn't believe for a moment that Spike could be anything else but was going to humor him.

For some reason this irked him more than this Liviu had. Perhaps because it reminded him a little too much of Williams' peers. Let William say his piece merely to scoff at him moments later. "Other than ...the sodding bands on...m-me wrists?"

Like his undone shirt Spike had forgotten to take off the bands in his joy of fleeing the castle grounds. He had no idea if they were even still on him. The chains made it impossible to tell. Wary and obviously not trusting his word Dragos whispered in latin. His bindings pushed Spike down reopening barely healed over wounds, spilling new blood. There was a click as one of the large cuffs came off though he could not take advantage of it. Pulling a sleeve up the human gasped a second later and there was another clicking sound when the band was finally taken away. Taking no heed of the grunting vampire he left without a word clutching the band with eager hands.

"Be...right here if you...need me..." Spike muttered.

From his bent position Spike could see his wounds clearer. Patterns, maybe words were carved into his flesh. If they said anything he couldn't tell from where he was with blood and blurry eyes obscuring the sight. Not that he couldn't guess the meaning. This torturer had made it quite clear what a waste of space Spike was.

_"You are only good for use, whore. No one wants you for any other purpose."_ He had said. Words truly did cut deeper than any blade. His passion, his weakness that so many had used against him.

_"There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl! "_

Didn't matter who it was or how hard he tried, the results were always the same. He hadn't wanted it to be true, he had a soul now, things should be different.

_"You can take what you want, have what you want... but nothing is yours."_

Angel had not come to his aid as he secretly hoped he would. Not that Spike had any poofy ideas about being rescued by the big strapping hero. It would be nice if for once someone would want to save him. It was the thought that counted really. Buffy saved him to find out if he revealed Dawn to Glory then because she needed him in the fight. When the deranged slayer Dana had kidnapped him it had been Dana that was Angels' concern. He was an after thought. Angel hadn't bothered to speak to him the whole time he was addressing her.

He would have thought that maybe he meant a little to the gang even if Angel wasn't overly fond of him. Maybe it was like Sunnydale all over again after he came back with his soul. Angel could have heard horrible things about him or told past deeds to his friends. If he came back they might regard him just as coldly. Connor might even threaten to stake him though unlike Dawn he might follow through with his threat.

Like Dru the blue meanie had a short attention span when bored. He reckoned she would simply find a new "pet" and forget about him. Seemed like the popular thing to do.

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"--yes, I am sending it to you. I knew you'd want to see it yourself." Rolling his eyes Dragos handed the wrapped package to a slight demon by the opened window. With a deafening screech it flew off into the night. "I am NOT rolling my eyes I..." he sighed heavily. "Fine. I'm on my way to greet them now."

He closed the cell phone with a snap motioning with his free hand for the driver to go faster. Being the right hand man to a rebel leader had it's off days. "Where the hell am I suppose to get basil out here? It's not like we have a seven eleven around the corner..."

Tapping his feet impatiently he glanced at his watch every five seconds. The time loop made it a trying portal to open but they did have to wait to sunset didn't they? "Of course they can't get the actual portal some where closer."

When they had arrived at the destination Dragos hopped out in time to hear a couple of splashes. By the time he stepped into their view he caught sight of two of the members coughing as they emerged from the waters' depths. A lone woman stood motionless in the pond watching a small group of birds land on the surface. He heard before he saw the movement of the fourth member of the party as he grabbed Dragos by the neck. Already feeling lightheaded he had to squint to see the man. With dark hair plastered to his forehead and darker eyes flickering dangerously Dragos knew he had come to the right spot. Met the right people.

"You--"he gasped as the hand squeezed his neck tighter. "...must be...A-Angelus."

"You really better hope you never meet that side of me." The man answered tightly. "Because this? This is nothing compared to what my not so better half will do."

"Unders-stood." Dragos replied tears rushing to his eyes though the vampire had released his hold.

"Not yet." Not letting up he advanced. "Now I don't who the hell you are but I know you're not Sergio."

"You're deal with him as been t-t-transferred to me. We have the same goals. The Count must be stopped."

"You made another deal?" A young man murmured behind the vampire in disbelief.

"I can take you to the man who will be his downfall," Dragos went on not wanting to lose momentum, "I am here to take you to the one they call Lord Mihai."


	32. Chapter 32

**Nika Dawson:** You'll get a little more of the mindframe of Dracula in this chapter. Can't say more than that.

**Spikemyangel:** You like Spike torture? That's good to know.

**endiahna:** Here's the next chapter. You like angst? Well...

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The taunts were all but silenced hours ago when Liviu had returned. In his hand he carried a glass bottle with a cork stopper tightly screwed in. Spike would have liked to have thought it's contents were of a pleasant nature. When the blades were pressed against his flesh he let his mind wander in an attempt to distract himself. Would have been nice if it was blood--too much blood all of it his--no don't think about it. Next was a refreshing drink, maybe a homemade gypsy brew that would to go down smoothly. For what he supposed was two hours, likely less, he struggled to recall the taste of different beers, ales and even wines. He couldn't. Not when the wooden stake was twisted an inch above his heart. He didn't scream though, not because he could block out the agony. He couldn't. His voice was simply too hoarse from the previous cries of pain.

When the liquid swished around loud enough to catch his slipping attention Spike amused himself with the thought that it was Liviu piss bottle. His mirth was short lived when the cork was finally unscrewed. "Do you beg to be taken? For touch that a filthy monster like you doesn't deserve?" The man sneered yanking the vampire by his hair he drew in close spitting as he spoke. "You taint us all, beast! Happily for us..."Liviu gave a terrible rotten tooth grin that sent chills to Spikes' bones. "...There are ways of cleanse us of your sickness."

That was when Spike noticed the cloth that he was pouring the clear fluid onto. It did not smell of blood, alcohol nor of urine. A sense of dread coiled tightly within his stomach ready to spring free when it finally came in contact with his skin. If he wasn't already hoarse he would have been as the holy water dripped cloth pressed against his lips.

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Angel would never be easy to comprehend, a fact that was slowly driving his son insane. He knew his father was better than this yet he had agreed to another shady dealing. One he had not bothered to inform any of them of. The hard lines of Faiths' brow told him that she was not liking this arrangement either. The four of them had been plucked off the train and been drowning in a lake the next moment. Though that didn't sound right. It felt like they had been stuck for longer than that, not that he could be certain. Portals never were his thing.

Their blue goddess on the other hand did not seem to care at all what had occurred. He wondered if she was listening to this Dragos guy tell Angel about a rebel leader fighting off Draculas' forces. Connor wasn't sure if they should get involved since their little grey world was hard enough to live in without blurring it further. Who was to say if this enemy of the famous vampire was any better?

"This shit makes no sense." Faith blunt retort made their guide flinch, she took no heed gesturing to the large tent at the center the camp they were approaching. "We don't know these guys, Angel. They could be tight with the W.R.H. and playing with us."

"They brought us here, and until we find out why or where we can't do much." The vampire reasoned. His tense body movement gave away his discomfort though.

"Gentlemen, ladies," Dragos said with an air of importance ignoring their pointed glares, "please step inside and Mihai will gladly answer any questions you have."

Only Connor hesitated to enter the main tent and to his surprise it was Illyria who came back for him. "Do not let this magic dull your senses. They infest like maggots in the decay."

"Umm...okay, thanks for the advice." He answered uncertainly. You never could be certain what the hell she was talking about. His senses though impressive were on overload at the moment. Even if they weren't he'd never be as good as Illyria at picking up stuff.

Once inside Connor had to blink and glance back at the entrance to make sure he was seeing correctly. It was gone, in it's place was a solid brick wall. The insides didn't look like anything he had expected outside. While stacks of magic books and herbs were present they were set up in order on high shelves. Stretching from one end of the room to another in what appeared to be a basement. Romanian rugs, candles, glass jars filled with pieces of things that Connor really didn't want to know about. Angel was standing in front of a taller, broader man. The figure reminded Connor of those wrestlers his friends back home liked to watch. Huge muscles, bald head with veins sticking out and menace in his eyes. Illyria ignored what threat he could pose walking past him towards the stairs. When the man made to follow Angel blocked him.

"Why did you bring us here?" The man didn't answer appearing amused by the question. Dragos sighed and went to interfere when Faith pushed him back.

"Really don't need your input, Jeeves."

"I want to know what game your playing, Mihai!" The brunet vampire bellowed.

"All you had to do was ask." Came the reply but not from the lips of the bald man. Five heads turned as one to a figure reclined against the railing next to Illyria. A young man no older than Connor waved took off an ear piece of his phone and smiled. He worn baggy faded jeans, a t-shirt with an image that was hidden by his bent leg and a pair of well worn sneakers.

"You're...Mihai? But you said he was--this can't be right--" Angel exclaimed looking more than a little confused. He wasn't the only one.

"What because of my age?" Mihai asked with a smirk. "Guess you never read Harry Potter."

"Harry Who?" Angel asked turning to Faith for answers.

"Hey if Ms. Rosenberg could do it why not anyone else?"

"You know about Will?" The slayer asked with more than a little disbelief clearly not trusting him one bit. He snickered.

"Girl who tried to end the world, killed Rack, turned on the potential slayers? Yeah, word gets around. You should hear what they say about her in the astral planes."

"Is that like one of those chatty room or an actual astral plane?" His dad never could be sure if he was missing a pop culture reference. Spike got them easily and would taunt Angel with it making the older appear foolish when he took the bait. Half the time he tried to ignore Spike but he never could for long. Thinking of it made Connor ache to have his family together again. They all needed Spike back. Whether they wanted to admit it was another thing. He was sure that Angel wanted to find Spike otherwise why was he going crazy risking everything so recklessly? Only people Connor had seen get that reaction from Angel was himself and Cordy.

"Kind of, we talk about the usual stuff. You know, mid-terms, dating, the yearly apocalypse." The young man shrugged not fazed what so ever with Illyria looming over him. Paying her no mind he even slipped off the railing to join her on the other side. "Though I gotta say that's a lot of hype to live up to."

"Yeah and you're better, right?" Judging by the tone Angel used and where he was looking at Connor had to fight back a snicker. Willow might have been weird, too perky especially about her offhand remarks about killing and being evil but she did appear to know what she was doing. She also didn't wear a shirt that had a picture of squirrel with a stick saying "protect your nuts" .

"Never said I was better--" Mihai corrected,"--just different." The three champions all jumped when the man finished his sentence from behind them. None of them had seen him teleport from his place near Illyria. This was one of the reasons Connor hated magic. That and it sending him to live in hell for most of his life. Like Holtz had said, it was the unknown that you could never really trust. He really didn't like illusions either.

"See Rosenberg is what I like to think of as the Hermione Granger of magic. Yes she's good but it's all book learned. She doesn't come from magic stock and hasn't began by self taught spells. Ones that most have all but forgotten. She's a bit too emotional too." Off their looks Mihai hurriedly back tracked. "Hey we all get heartbroken and lose people. Few people actually go about to destroy the world because of it. Well except you." He smirked at Angel who glared back.

"Where are we? In your moms' basement?" Breaking eye contact with Angel the youth glanced over at Faith smiling tightly.

"Mom's dead, just like dad, this is my family home as bleak as it is. Didn't have much left when we were kicked out of our real home. I can change it, expand it to suit my needs and get the entrance to open to guests where ever I please." Three blank faces stood staring back at him in awkward silence. "Anyone want a Dr. Pepper?" He offered.

No one answered. Mihai cheerful gestured to his gaming console, "I got the newest games, and when I say new I mean the ones that won't be made for another three years. Oh and little stock tip don't be betting against any big time law firms anytime soon. Their going to play for keeps."

"That's cool and all," Connor said feeling the need to add something of value to the conversation," it's just that I don't get what the deal with you and Dracula. Not that I know a whole lot about the real deal outside movies, but why start a war over it? What is "it" anyway?"

Dragos laughed hollowly, " 'It' is being exiled from our home! Being cursed to live yet never feel truly alive!"

"Our clan were rivals with the Counts' favored tribe Kalderash--who I assume you know of." Mihai directed a nod in Angels' direction to which the vampire muttered, "why does everything come back to them?"

"Let me guess, you guys killed a girl and he put the whammy on your asses." Connor noticed for the first time that Faith had slipped out of her wet jacket and taken out her dagger. He watched as her tattooed arm flexed to perform an one handed toss while she slummed against the wall. Surprisingly no one commented on it. Indeed neither Dragos or the bald man appeared threatened at all. They were more insulted by her tactless remark than worried.

"Actually it does reflect the Angelus matter a little. What with the curse and all. There was a war between us for many years. The Count himself put an end to it forcing a truce and shoving us to a small uninhabitable area. His pet clan were given gifts and respect. Then the unthinkable and in this case unforgivable happened--a Kalderash girl got pregnant with a man from our tribe. He rounded us all up to be sent away without listening to reason. The girl who denied being forced by this man had refused to get rid of her baby. She was banished with them never to see her family again."

Connor had no idea what was the right path to take, he wanted to save Spike and have his family reunited again. They couldn't ignore someone asking for help, could they? And it might work to their advantage to have help dealing with Dracula.

What if they were being played? If he was worse than the legendary vampire? If they refused to aid them would they be allowed to leave? If they helped would it take to much time? For all they knew Spike could have be dead-er by then.

"What happened to this girl?" Angel suddenly asked almost cautiously. Perhaps she would help him decide.

"She's dead. Died years ago when the pain of losing her family, home and lover became too much to bear." The youth answered flatly.

"This...lover was the father of her kid? What happened to him?

"He was killed in the capture just before the rest were removed from Draculas' sight." The grinning easy going Mihai was gone leaving a seething one in his place. Before he seemed too boyish to be this dangerous rebel. Now with unnatural jet black eyes he showed that he was more than what he appeared. Connor had an idea what had happened to the baby though Angel didn't ask he knew his father figured it out too.

"Our blood is tainted by this spell, if not lifted we will pass this onto our children to suffer for a false crime they had no part in." The man Dragos added when it was clear that Mihai would not say more.

"Everyone is...cursed the same?" Connor asked not thinking it was right to bring up his theory about Mihai not being as affected by the curse as the others.

"No, I can not physically return to our homeland yet. I'm building strength to make this possible." The smirk slipped back. "Do you want to play foosball? We could make plans for crippling the Counts' forces during dinner. I'm thinking nachos and pizza."

"Uh yeah, great as that is we never actually agreed to help you. We're here for one purpose only and that's to save...um...a...member of our team. Thanks but we have more important things than to--ILLYRIA?!"

An electronic explosion boomed in the room as the leather clad figure hit the buttons on a controller. Her attention it seemed had been drawn to the gaming system. Her eyes eagerly following her characters' movement to ruthlessly shoot down the enemies in her path. Angel seemed at a complete loss at how to deal with her when she was like this. Not that he ever knew how to deal with her.

"I was trying to make a point here, which you kind of ruined."

"Silence half-breed, I will not let your kind order me. I will do what I wish. My foes will be slaughtered like the cowards they are for fleeing my wrath." She sort of smiled when a hail of bullets caught her onscreen foes spattering digital blood. "Not as satisfying as freshly spilled blood by my hand but it will do."

While Angel sputtered for words Faith put in her two cents. "Here's the deal yo, I don't trust you but we might not have too many options. Way I figure it we could help each other out."

Completely dumbfounded by not having the final word on what they were going to do, that no one had even listened to him Angel stared on in stunned silence.

---------------------------------------- -----------------------------

The gurgling noise of the man choking on his own blood seemed too loud in the eerily quiet night. He paid it no mind, another campsite another failure. True he had rid himself of another band of the followers of Mihai doing right by those he swore to protect...would it be enough? None had given away their masters' secrets. His lair remained hidden, untouchable. Dracula felt like he was missing a factor he had not considered yet refused to surface in his busy mind. Since nightfall he had taken soldiers to set about fighting off his foes. With the elder by his side it was easier to weed out their whereabouts, either Mihai was careless or not as skilled as he claimed.

_Or he let us find lesser foot soldiers to keep us off his scent._

While the men were not formidable they did suit his need for blood lust nicely. They failed to keep his thoughts from wandering for long. The dark vampire could not help himself from thinking on his troublesome prisoner. His obsession and enemy Spike. In his rage he had set about to destroy the chambers he had stayed in as if to erase the mans' existence entirely from his being. It had not been as cleansing as he had hoped. Halfway through he had come upon his bed where his scent was the strongest. Despair had welled in him like he had not known in ages. Dracula had believed that he was on the path to falling in love with Spike yet the strength of his emotions overwhelmed him. Not long ago he held Spike in his arms, kissed him with tenderness he never showed the other man, and the void left was eating away at him. Leaving him a shell of his former self.

_Isn't that always true in matters of the heart?_

While Spike had never hid his desire to flee Dracula had felt sickened that he had. The younger vampire had awaken something within him that he never thought he would feel wholly for another. His affections were splintered among his lovers to lessen the impact of their dying. None had left him by any other means except Spike.

Jabbing the last of the wooden spikes into the man he left his message to Mihai. "We are finished here."

There would be hell to pay for the next unlucky soul to cross their path that night. If these so-called Powers that Be truly cared for Spike then they would do well to protect him from his wrath.

---------------------------------------- -

Liviu smiled at his masterpiece, the shivering gory mess that the dark lord had seen fit to make his personal whore. He chuckled imagining the vampires' reaction to the sight before him. "See if he wants you now, eh?"

The man rinsed out the blood stained towel absently pondering what else could be done to clean tainted flesh without stripping it away completely. The burned lips had been delightful--more so when the vampire spit out blood when a drop went into his mouth--yet it wasn't enough. An idea formed in his head that would do wonderfully. Taking the no longer pretty shirt in hand he tore it away and reached for his bowl.

"How about a nice bath?"


	33. Chapter 33

** Buffyxenaman:** Thank you. Not as soon as I would have liked but here it is.

**Nika Dawson:** Well, you'll see here I guess...or maybe you wouldn't. Vague enough? Dracula really isn't and you will hear more about his mind frame in upcoming chapters. Ever since I first wrote Mihai I knew that he had to be pretty young. Some of that is playing with the idea that he wants to change the old ways of his home.

**Spikemyangel:** I think it's funny that Spike is known as the one who jumps head first when Angel has done it a lot himself. Connor used to do it too but he has more sense now. More on the Mihai stuff later. ;) It does play into the cruelty being shown to Spike. You want Dracula to kiss his booboo's? Hmm, not Angel? Well, that's interesting. Crazy Spike: you will see a bit of him I guess.

**Endiahna:** Thanks, I think there are rules that if you do long fics Spike or Angel have to get tortured.

**IIMelpomene:** I hope I don't disappoint you with how I deal with this.

**SuicidalShinigami**: UPDATED! I'm glad that you like the story. :)

**Morgan:** Thank you so much for reviewing. :) You will be both vampires' reactions to Spikes' treatment...sometime. Hopefully soon.

This was unbelievable! Okay, maybe Angel could see Illyria not listening to him, Faith was a slayer so she had to figure out the mysterious dark stranger, whatever. They were supposed to be looking for Spike and Mihai wasn't shining any light on that so why stick around? Yeah, it sort of had been his idea in the first place but how long was it going to take them to do this? No information meant that they had to move on. Time never was his friend and there were already too many losses with rescues that came too late. Angel didn't want to add a new name to that list.

Scanning the endless basement he saw Illyria relentlessly tapping at buttons staring unblinkingly at the flashes on the miniature tv screen. He tilted his head not understanding the appeal. It was a little weird how she had taken to it. How did she know what buttons to push to do those things? These games were kinda gory...Spike must love them. Rapidly changing course he spotted Faith quietly conversing with this Mihai guy who seemed to be messing with a silver cuff.

Moving along to find Connor so that they could figure out their next move Angel suddenly stopped in his tracks. He had smelled a very familiar scent that set his mind on fire and called to him. Familiar blood that never failed to drive his senses into overload inspiring alertness. Spikes' blood.

Back stepping Angel gave into his demon self to sniff out the source. There was no trail that would lead to the wayward vampire, it was only located in one place. One item to be precise.

"Where did you get that?" He demanded nudging his head jerkily at silver band in the young magic users hand.

"Angel?" Connor hesitated to question his father wondering if he actually figured something out. Half believing he was simply starting trouble for the sake of it. Angel did not deal with road blocks to his mission well. Less when someone he knew was endangered.

"Smell--,"Angel quickly changed course thinking that it wasn't in their best interest to let these people know about Connors' abilities yet. "It smells," he nodded again to the cuff, "like Spikes' blood."

Faith came forward to get a better look at what she had undoubtedly assumed was a piece of junk. Or something kinky. He really didn't care at that point, he only wanted to know one thing.

"Where is Spike?"

He wondered if Angel was overly upset with him about the exchange. Sergio snorted at his thoughts, he KNEW Angel would be furious at him. If not at the moment when his concern for William the Bloody (which he would deny under pain of death) then later when he found himself indebted to the demon who had given them up to a dictator to be. It wasn't like Sergio wanted much in return. Money, protection from others and his own condo would be nice. Dwelling in an underground cave had lost it's appeal decades ago.

Though you had to be careful with the humans about, Sergio and his kind would never be mistaken for those fleshy tight skinned beings. Reptilian in appearance with his scaly skin, pointed teeth, awkwardly large claws did not make it possible for everyday outings. Spells failed to hid the nature of his people too. Sort of funny really since most were magic users. One of the prices he supposed of using it.

The pool of water wavered as he passed making Sergio pause. He hadn't been stomping around, aware as he was with the fragile mixes he was brewing, and thus was confused at what could have disturbed the surface. Crouching down on his hunches he peered at the gathering ripples in curiosity. No earthquakes could touch this place. He had learned from the Masters' folly. His razor sharp eyebrows rose in alarm when bubbles arose starting from the center. It seemed to be draining from the bottom like a whirl pool.

Realization came too late, Sergio hadn't thought that the barriers would be penetrated again. Mihai had been an ally and powerful which had made the earlier breach acceptable.

"Where are they?" A crossbow was leveled at him before the sentence had been asked. Five young women in clothing not unlike those special ops outfits on TV were gather around an older human. Male and much weaker appearing than the tough women totting weapons with ease. He inspected his glasses causally like breaking into a demons' lair through a magical portal of water was an everyday happening that no longer warranted his attention.

"How did you––?"

The man chuckled at replacing the glasses into his breast pocket. "It's not that difficult to tap into an open channel after we trace Angelus and his people to this location." He had said "people" like he was simply using the term loosely to speak about beings far lower than that. "While you closed one of the connections you failed to close the one that opened up on the train. Very careless."

With a slight indication with his head the amazons like women attacked like rapid dogs whose leashes were cut. Never much of a fighter Sergio was helpless to defend himself. Bones broke with harsh cracks, slices opened up flesh and yellow blood poured out to stain his homes' floor.

"Ladies, I think it's time we had a little lesson." The old mans' face stretched into what Sergio imagined a smile was supposed to look on his face. It was too malicious to be called one on any other face.

"Jane?" One of the girls, the one who had taken an unsettling amount of brutality paled.

"Yes, sir?"

"This creature is part of a demon race that eats babies--human ones."

Janes' eyes widen in horror not hearing Sergios' attempt to give her the truth. "This one is helping Angelus, the worst vampire ever recorded for his evil. He has complete disregard for human life. Even if this beast were not evil itself that alone would be reason enough to cleanse us of it. Anyone--" The male human raised his voice and caught all of the womens' eyes, "--anyone that abets such immoral beings condones their actions and should be dealt with in the same manner."

Her face hardened flicking the copious blood that clung to her. "Your fault my dear was your dealing with them. Quick deaths are too good for such sinful depraved beings." He strolled to Sergio grinning cheerfully when he lowered himself to the floor to get into his victims eye range.

"They have to be made to suffer for their crimes you see." The human reached into his inner pocket to get out a handkerchief. "Otherwise their never learn." In lightening fast moves that he pulled out a dagger diving it into Sergios' arm. The demon howled. "They have to learn before they die. Now Jane, I'm going to teach you the proper way to deal with these creatures and get the information we need."

Spike wasn't aware of anything other than the various types of misery he was experiencing. His body was throbbing like a long forgotten pulse. Skin still sizzled with the burn of holy water though his tormentor had taken a break to admire his work. Soon his pants would be removed and the sponge bath torture would continue. His hold of his sanity was precarious at best. The soul made it harder to endure such abuse. The harsh half-truths that were told were not heard much now that Spike was having difficulty focusing on the present outside the anguish.

He could hear the voices of his victims cheering on the Romanian mans' attentions. It was deserved, he was not a man and should not be treated as one. The humans in Sunnydale were there too turning up their noses at him in disgust. Harris like always saying how they should have killed him long ago. How Buffy had lowered herself by being with such a debase creature.

Her eyes were hard and unyielding as usual. She was worse than the others, even his niblet, who wished he had stayed dead. Burnt to a crisp.

_"Did you ever really think you were a champion? We don't you know."_ Buffys' image informed him with a toss of her head.

Silken golden locks whipped over her shoulder at the motion reminding him of the hours he spend worshiping her with his entire being. Spike would play with the strands until she would push him away again. He saw them flip like that when she was turning away from him, usually in a furious huff. She cut it once simply because he confessed to loving her hair being long free and wild like he thought of her.

Spike knew that he should have learned long ago to hide his heart better. Yet he kept putting himself out there where he would get trampled.

_"We were all glad that you were dead. You outlived your purpose a long time ago and did I mention the clingy-ness? I was sick of listening to you bitching about your soul. Get over it Spike, you're worthless to all of us, why pretend any different?"  
_  
_"Maybe because that's what Willy does best."_ Spikes' stomach lurched at the sight of Angel. His mind was playing tricks with him again. Angel appeared exactly as he had during their night together. Only the Angelus-like smugness and sadistic grin were out of place.

_"Our Spikey likes to play the big bad but he's still the same pathetic little heartbroken poet. The mamas' boy. The loser that tries to play with the big boys."_ The brunet swatted down to met Spikes' gaze as the torturer poured a fresh bowl of holy water. The other was murky with the blood mixed in.

_"Remember when I got you to roll over for me that night with barely any effort. God, you were such a fawning little piece of ass. You're always so easy. Just make you feel special and you'll give it up to anyone. I had a good laugh afterwards at how you seemed to think there would be more in the morning. You know I watched your face the entire time. So needy. Gullible. No one wants you Spike, not more than a pity screw anyway. And there's so much to pity."  
_  
Spike would have cried if the tears would have come. Why did he need affection when there would be none to be had? He should have learned to be a loner by now. Should have learned a great many things yet he hungered for contact. For friendship, family and for the elusive love that would last for the rest of his days.

Was it really worth it though? Spike was more than willing to suffer a world that tormented him at every turn and lay down his life for love. No one was willing to go to such lengths for the vampire. He had never felt wholly loved by anyone and half wondered if anyone was capable of it.

Spike knew that Buffy had no idea who she was nor what she wanted yet. Even if she did it would never be him. Their worlds didn't mesh and neither did her and Angels'. The older vampire and him...Spike didn't know what he had ever thought would come of it. He supposed he knew that Angel would never feel that way about him. That was laughable. Loving Angel had never been something he had thought on. They were family in a sense, he had held get respect and affection for the other man. He couldn't see it developing into love.

It might have been the closest thing he could have hoped for. An equal partnership he supposed, where someone finally at least understood him. It had felt safe, tender and Spike could--did see it working when they were together. In reality they were never truly together in any case. Spike simply had read too much into it like usual. Angel wanted something real and unlike Spike he was capable of getting it.

A drop of water hissed against his skin drawing him out of his musings to see the Romanian pulling at his pants while clutching a new soaked washcloth in the other. He smiled sadly at this fate. No one would know what happened to him when this was done at last. No one would care. That wasn't all that different from his last death really though the last one was going out on a bang. This was less than a whimper.

The tent flaps were roughly pushed to the side and Spike blinked up to see the new arrival. The man yelled, spewing out curses and Spike gave a tiny soundless laugh not altogether sure if he was imaging the vampire or not. Darkness took him again and he knew no more.


	34. Chapter 34

**Tanya Potter:** Sorry I can't help being mean. Thanks!

**Nika Dawson**: Thank you, I try to update as soon as I can but it doesn't always go as fast as I want.

**IIMelpomene**: Spike tends to go through the ringer I'm afraid. Sorry for the delays on the updates. Their come together but I can not say for sure when that will happen.

**Endiahna**: Thank you so much for the kind comments. You'll see what happens to Spike in this chapter though whether for good or for ill we'll have to see.

**Buffyxenaman**: Thanks for the feedback. :)

**Spikemyangel:** Wow, it's amazing to see someone with a different pairing name want to see more of another pairing. Roger and his slayers are pretty messed up, more on that later. ;)

**Morgan**: Thanks. Angel's never too happy. ;)

**Angelplusbuffyequal4ever**: Done. :)

Vidae: Thank you very much. I really wanted to not go into the "Dracula is the guy you're meant to hate" route. Writing Spike and Dracula has together has been a huge thrill for me as well as a challenge. I never wrote a full out romance before this fic. I can't wait to get to the part with Angel. Another Dracula/Spike over Spangel? I might take that into consideration. ;)

May: I've always been impressed with the strength of Spikes' character and wanted to show them along with his weaknesses. It really makes Spike that much more heroic that he's not given the credit he deserves. I can't tell you how happy I am that everyone seems open to Draculas' character. He's very proud but he like Spike is willing to go above and beyond for those he cares about. You will see more of Dracula with William. As for him giving into the Dark Lords' charms' we'll see. Sorry about the delay.

Mel: That's really some high praise, thank you very much, I hope you keep enjoying my story. Sorry for the delay but you'll see who saved him in this chapter. Glad that you don't know who to root for too.

--

He did not know what he had expected to see upon entering the tent. The smell hit him before his mind could take in the image. Burnt flesh and blood. A human was crouched by a beaten figure of a man, the one that the smells were obviously coming from. Dull blue eyes stared up at him for a fleeting moment making his stomach clench. It was Spike who looked so unlike himself. Almost...he didn't even want to think it...almost defeated.

Noticing him the man rose, the vampire would have surely have ignored him if not for his spewing hateful words.

"Come to get this little bitch of yours?" He sneered going on in Romanian with such vulgar talk that in a flash the demons' hand was at his throat without realizing he had taken the action. Fangs were weapons to inflict the pain that his hands did not. The animal rage that had overtaken him would have gone further if not for the small whimper from Spike.

Remembering himself he called out for assistance, giving his people directions for taking care of the younger vampire. Once that concern was dealt with he returned his attention to the bleeding man in his grasp.

"Yours would have been a quick death as you are not worthy of my time. You will suffer for this outrage but not by death. That I deny you!"

He sadly could not devote too much effort with the man but the three hours gave him much satisfaction. To hear the begging for mercy that would never come, oh how he had missed it. Drinking from the fresh puncture wounds was something he refused to do. That tainted blood was far too wretched to taste. Once he was pleased by the complete destruction of the human mind, a master piece really, he dragged him outside into the center of the camp.

Those that knew him shuddered at the mask of hate and disgust as he regarded the sobbing creature. It's tears had long since run out, it's tongue no longer an issue. With one final glance the vampire heaved the mans' body onto the wooden stake, impaling him with one swift move. The limp body hung there like a pathetic scarecrow with it's legs several feet off the ground. There the man would stay as a reminder. The sign nailed to the base only re-forced this in case people were too dense to get the message. In either case it was more than fitting.

"Is he alive?"

"Yes, I know how to make it last." The vampire informed her. Many seemed to have forgotten his talent for this as of late. "Is he safe?"

The helplessness he detested returned in full force at the thought of Spike. Dracula knew sunrise was not far off and longed to return to the other mans' side. He knew that he should have held onto his anger longer-- no one would make a fool out of him-- yet seeing Spike hurt... With those words carved into his flesh...instincts to protect his beautiful wild William were going into overdrive. Feelings he never thought he would have again, much less for another man. Not since Anthony.

"Yes, Master. They are dealing with his injuries as we speak. What do you wish us to do with the rest of the camp?" Anselina asked unable to keep herself from watching the fearful peasants attempting to limp away. The song of the hunt thrummed within all their veins tonight. She could tell her master felt it too though his yearning was of a different kind.

"Show them the same hospitality they have shown."

Not pausing to give the yells that followed a backwards glance Dracula moved on to where his heart already was with.

--

Spike couldn't stop shaking, everything felt so bloody cold. Everything ached, muscles twitched unable to still from the after effects of the abuse they had suffered. For a blessed moment he had no idea where he was, no memory of how he came to such a state. Then his eyes opened to find the familiar colors of the flowers across the room. Though the image was blurred he knew what it was--what it represented. A pretty treat to get the whore to lie down with his latest "lover."

A false sentiment like all the other signs he had misread or been touched by. Was he ever valued? Spike was beginning to wonder if the look of respect he had seen in Buffys' eyes had been false. Had she really seen the "dead thing" she had lowered herself with as a champion? Had Angel spoke to him about his failings, about pains he never voiced to the others like losing Cordelia, his son and friends?

He could almost believe it was all fake, that they had ended up using him, hurting him to make themselves feel better. Wasn't that how it always was? No, a girl had told him once that...what was it? He was worth saving? She hadn't hurt him...

"Hush, you are safe now."

A soft feather like kiss punctuated these words instantly made Spike cringe. "Not...not a rent boy..."

He caught the furious glare of Draculas' eyes and flinched preparing for more hits. That look was one he was familiar with. Disgust.

__

"There is nothing good or clean in you!"

"No, you are not. If only I could have prolonged that fools' agony further for such a thing!" The darker vampire cupped Spikes' face tenderly though his gaze was intense. So intense that the smaller man shuddered. "You will recover, this I vow. You must feed first to regain your strength."

A tray that Spike hadn't noticed was pulled closer to the bed. Several goblets were lined up on it causing his stomach growl. Yet Spike couldn't bear to look at it for long. He was a dirty murdering creature, he deserved to be like this. Broken like one of Drus' dolls unable to pull the pieces back together once they shattered into a hundred shards scattered across the room. Only to be crushed underneath the next persons' heel.

"Drink!" It was half an order and half a plea that seemed foreign on Draculas' tongue.

"No...can't..." He paused to stare at the man sitting next to him. This--this didn't make any sodding sense. "Why do--do you care?"

Dracula sighed in annoyance regaining the appearance Spike was more comfortable with. Why did he feel more at ease with being someones' enemy than being their desired? Well, no one ever accused him of being overly sensible. "How can you being so knowing and yet so incredibly dense, William?"

There was movement that Spike could not see from his position but caught the conflicted look on the other mans' face. He didn't have long to ponder this as a finger was placed on his lips. At first he thought it was to silence him. The wet, sticky substance told him otherwise. Spikes' body trembled at the scent unable to fight his demon in his weaken state. His mind was too slow to catch up by the time he opened his mouth to involuntary suck on the blood covered digit. Human blood.

Moaning he released the finger to lick his lips while fireworks seemed to go off through his system. Only thing that was better than human blood was sex--which was usually why they went hand in hand with their kind. No, Spike couldn't have more. It had taken him long enough to go through withdrawn last time. The offered goblet was rejected with a wobby shake of his head that left him dizzy with the effort.

"Damn that soul! You need to heal ! Human blood is the best means to do this!" Dracula said petting the side of Spike neck in an attempt to encourage more feeding. The gentle touch had brushed a sensitive spot that caused Spike to moan helplessly. The lip of the goblet was instantly pressed against his mouth spilling droplets onto his dried lips. It was an undeniable force that had finally broke Spikes' will power. He greedily drained the cup savoring the rich flavor in a feverous haze.

"Bastard." Spike whizzed.

"Condemn me all you like, Spike. I do not care. It is not what is important, it is meaningless much like your protest. That soul of yours may like to deny what you are. I may even accept it though I do not understand it's foolishness. I will not however permit you to obey its' commands now." Another cup was placed in front of him and Spike couldn't stop himself in his weaken state from drinking more.

The screams of the slain grew louder with each drop making the trembling that much worse. He wasn't certain if it was in fact the bloods' fault as he tended to have these episodes after torture session with the soul. How could Angel endure as long as he did without cracking? It had to have been impossible. Instead of admiring the other vampire Spike felt a strong sense of loathing towards him. Towards the Count for force feeding him but mostly aimed at himself. They were all such vile creatures unfit to live among the innocents they slaughtered. Was this how Buffy saw him?

The dark lord didn't appear to be pleased at the progress if his frown was any indication. It wasn't until his hands wiped at Spikes' cheek that the younger man realized that he was crying. He couldn't help it though, everything around him was crashing down and the walls he had so carefully set up to protect himself were impossible to maintain

He was a right prat who couldn't even hid in front of his arch-enemy. Worse yet he didn't even care what the Count thought of him.


	35. Chapter 35

**SciFiRN:** Always happy to see new readers. :) Thanks for commenting!

**Spikemyangel: **I'm a big Spangel fan myself but that's not to say I wouldn't mind seeing other pairings too. There are only a select few that I am interested in pairing him with besides Angel so when I thought about this pairing I had to write about it. You're right about Spike and Angel, Dracula however has his own fault as well. His ego for example. Either Angel or him would have quite a challenge in a relationship with Spike.

**angelplusbuffyequal4ever:** Thanks.

**IIMelpomene:** Spike is not at a good place right now. But there are those that care about him enough to try to help him. Whether he takes that help is another story.

**endiahna**: I have a soft spot for him as well. Here's another update!

--

The distressing sight of Spikes' tears was more than disturbing to the Count. How many days--years--had he dreamed of bringing the other man to such a state? Now that it had been achieved he wanted to taken on all of the pain himself if it would help cleanse the other vampire of the demons that currently tormented his mind. Spike wasn't supposed to be broken, this was horribly wrong.

Dracula had high hopes of there being no scarring despite the holy water burns if Spike had feed enough. Those vicious words carved into his flesh could heal over. If they didn't then the second and harder part of the younger mans' recovery would take longer to achieve. The emotional wounds were far deeper. He truly doubted that such a weak bigoted man could reduce William the Bloody to this if those injuries were not already present.

That meant that someone had hurt Spike before, hurt him deeply. If he ever found those guilty of inflicting such damage he would make that Romanian humans' fate look like a pleasant past time in comparison. Dealing with the problem head on now...that was the tricky part. He could not comprehend what Spike was going through. The self-loathing and guilt that the soul brought him. How could you if you lacked a soul yourself? Even as a human Dracula had little time to linger on remorse. All around him had been traitors waiting to slay the one man who could bring about order to his troubled land. That was not to say that he did not understand all of the torment Spike was going through.

Of being looked down at for a perceived "sickness" that those narrow minded fools could never see the beauty in. He did not know how the younger man felt about him after such an abuse had been taken out on him in Draculas' name. All the same the Count felt he owed the other man something in return. Perhaps to himself as well. It had been many years since he had spoken on his own heartaches.

"You were shocked to learn of my preferences, were you not?" Spike stared at him blankly not grasping the importance of the question. "It is true that once I only counted the ladies of being those I felt worthy of my affections."

Dracula frowned not liking how revealing that had unintentionally been but Spike had not appeared to have noted it. "In my...other life I was married to a woman of astonishing kindness, beauty and grace. Though she loved me she could not endure the kind of man I had to be. For my people, and for my family. Since her death and my rebirth I have taken many lovers. It is not because, as you suggested, that I want a random harem. I love each of my brides in a different manner. It is easy to think of forevers when you are young, naive and know little of nothing of the worlds' inner workings. Eternity is an endless stretch, a lonely existence. I know when I choose each bride that they will not live as long as I will. They never do. I will treasure each one as long as I can yet I can not fully give my heart to any of them. Knowing my fate you see has tainted my hardened heart against opening fully to any lover."

With a small tug he began to unbutton his shirt much to Spikes' alarm. Giving a reproving glare at the assumption Dracula went on without missing a beat. It was unthinkable to stop now that he had begun. "I confess that I was intrigued by the concept of bedding men at first. My brides of course encouraged this--as long as I promised not to forget them--and I enjoyed the freedom it gave me. No false pretense, no rules of engagements, the taboo, all of it appealed to me. I thought that I would have no attachments. I was wrong. I met Aime'. " He paused, a small bittersweet smile gracing his face. Spike, unknown to him, was watching him curiously.

"He lived in a small town in France--a name I am certain you have never heard of and is of no consequence. Aime' never had an idea of who he was supposed to be, his parents had made that choice for him by marrying him off to some silly headed girl. Once they had a heir his wife fled with the blacksmith leaving him to care for their daughter in peace. Most would have despised have a girl child but he was thrilled with such a blessing. Such a shy yet noble man. Simple to a fault in his ideas and work carving pieces of art in wood. Aime' caught my eye the moment I first saw him. It was a chance he half tried to resist, he didn't realize how much he wanted it until it was almost too late. For two weeks we were together when I offered him immortality."

"He said no?" Dracula looked up at Spike, startled by the sudden question. Spike seemed to be surprised himself but his expression was also earnest.

"No, he agreed to it. His only wish was that his child was protected. He was frightened though, of what others would think of two men that lie together. I told him not to think of it since it mattered not. I would protect them. Still I bowed to his wishes of keeping us a secret. I was already a public figure. His town you see had sought to form an alliance with me to save them from from a horde of oncoming demons. They hated our kind yet had to serve me in order to save themselves from utter destruction." The darker vampires' brow furrowed, lost in his thoughts.

"Did--did a piss poor job at saving them, did ya?" He almost smiled at the bravado half wishing they could snip at each other once more.

"I was victorious. I had planned on returning to turn Aime' that night to return with him here." Cold dark eyes met Spikes' causing the latter to flinch at the harshness he found there. He almost expected to freeze to death by that look alone. "The whole town was in the town square--I believe it was to celebrate my victory. It was to cheer on the death of a sodomite. My Aime'. They had learned of us and had taken out their barbaric sense of justice on him."

Spike watched unable to look away from hatred that poured off of Dracula in waves. "He was almost unrecognizable when I saw him, beaten back and blue. Hung up like--" For the first time the Counts' voice broke. He took a moment to compose himself, Spike remained silent unable to find the heart to gloat. Once Dracula reigned in himself to go on his voice was harsher. "I wiped them off of the map in one night. All those who bared witness to his suffering, all those who did nothing, or worse joined in paid dearly. The only survivors were Aimes' parents and the girl."

His touch belied his hard words, caressing Spikes' face with a gentleness that still confused the one receiving it. "I will not abide such ignorance nor treatment of those I--"

"Wot do you want?" The tenderness was too much for Spike to take in at the moment. Having the Count finish would have surely been far too much for him to deal with. "You just want another toy, is that it?"

Bright teary eyes glared up at him accusing him after he had just reopened old wounds for Spike. No, he couldn't be angry at him when the other vampire was hurt like this. This was supposed to be about healing past pains not retreading recent ones.

"No, I do not. It should mean something, even to you Spike, that I am willing to let that insult to my character go unavenged. I am tired of these games of ours. Of pretending that I do not feel as strong as I do. You want to know what I desire? There are to many things to list. In regards of tonight? To rid you of these lies you have been told. You are not mere flesh to sate another with. You are a man of great courage and honor." Dracula kissed his brow, cheek and lips to better show his affection.

The tension in Spikes' body lessened momentarily letting him enjoy these soft touches and sweet words. It didn't matter then if he believed any of it because Dracula sounded like he did. The conviction made his un-beating heart clench. Did someone finally see him? God, he wanted it to be true but he had been burned so many times. Everyone wanted him for his talents not for him. Not that he wanted Dracula to WANT him. Did he?

Ahh, head must be more buggered than I thought if 'M asking that.

His eyes were getting heavier with each whisper. Just before Spike fell asleep he heard Dracula start to recite one of his favorite poems.

Anselina had searched throughout the castle for their master along with the others. He was not to be found in his own chambers and it was not like him to be this late for a meeting. Adela had suggested trying Spikes' room with a sparkle in her eyes. Taking the hint Anselina had come in thinking to find the Count sitting in a chair watching his beloved. Instead she found him in bed cradling Spike in his arms. She had to take a moment to look on the pleasing image the two made. Two perfect sculpted forms of male beauty tangled together. While the burns, bruises and cuts marred ones' flesh it did not ruin the scene. It only made the protectiveness her lord showed more endearing. At least the smaller ones' wounds were healing nicely.

"I hope that there is a suitable reason for this interruption, Anselina." The darker one said while unashamedly kissing the other mans' forehead.

"Sadly there is, you are needed, Master."

He sighed regretfully. She had to admit his pout was both disturbing and adorable. Giving Spike a lingering kiss he rose half dressed to get ready. Seeing his lovers' glance he shook his head. "We have not been together in that manner. I will not take advantage of him in his weakened condition."

"You do seem very pleased."

"All I did was hold him, watching him as he slept. It was more than enough."

Spike felt pleasantly fuzzy and did not want to bother with the buzz of warning at the back of his skull. If he had he would have known that there was other presences in the chambers watching him drift off again. Faintly he felt a soft finger trace his mouth as the bed shifted from the weight of another being.

"I am never letting go of you again." The voice promised tracing the faint contented smile of those lips he had so recently kissed. Spike couldn't tell who it was when he was so tired but he felt safe for the first time in an age.


	36. Chapter 36

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks

**endiahna:** Well if by better you mean more slash then yes. If you mean less Spike torture...well, we'll see.

**SciFiRN:** I really became a Dracula (from the Buffyverse) fan when I read Spike vs. Dracula. I know he appeared in the Buffy comics but I don't like how he's written there. In the IDW comic series he actually IS a good threat, not a joke. So I wanted to expand on that--the good threat part not the joke. As for who Spike is with, he'll have "moments" with both. Thank you!

**Pita:** Sorry it takes me so long to update lately. Work has tired me out but here's a new chapter.

**metaimp22:** One thing I always wanted to see was a character trying to woo Spike. The problem is that most of the love interests aren't the romantics he is. Their not willing to put themselves out there or over come with their own emotional issues. One of my chief worries was being able to develop Dracula into a real love interest from a rival that wanted Spike to suffer. With his pride it's not an easy thing to do but like Spike he is a fool for love. Thank you. :)

--

He watched his fathers' eyes narrow as he read the sign. What it said he could only guess. Any mercy Angel would have shown had been drained from him. The man was unable to ask for death but Connor could see that he wanted it. He hesitated a moment to ponder if he could grant the man a quick death. whether it would be considered the right course for their group of redemption seeking champions. It seemed the right course to take. His hand got no further than grasping the handle of his dagger when Angels' hand closed over his.

"Leave him."of

"Shouldn't we--"

"No. He should feel it all. " Angel sounded frighteningly like Angelus then. Like he liked the picture the tortured human presented. "At least he knew how to get the job done right. I know I had my doubts--" Yeah, he WAS admiring the handy work. This was bad.

"What jacked up shit is this, Angel?" Faiths' eyes were blazing and Connor couldn't say that he blamed her. Not just for the Angelus behavior either. The vampire hadn't asked their opinion when he made the choice to let the men of Mihai show them to the camp site they had been holding Spike. He had more or less been ignoring all of Faiths' questions of the morality of the situation.

Connor got that, he still looked to Angel as a guide to what was right when he felt lost. It didn't help when their moral compass was pointing in the wrong direction. They had been exchanging meaningful glances behind Angels' back for hours wondering if they should do something. Apparently Faith felt this was their moment to clear the air.

"Faith--" There was a weary warning to Angels' tone that Faith completely ignored.

"I could deal with a little darkness from you, hey who am I to complain, right? But come on Angel, you really want to let someone suffer when--"

"He tortured Spike." Angel stated venomously. Connor could faintly smell the undercurrents of the other vampires' blood though the humans' covered most of the scent.

"How do you know--"

"The tent back there has his tools." He opened his mouth to say more but thought better of it. The slayer reached out uncertainly to attempt to comfort Angel. She had barely made contact with him before he rough pushed her aside to sniff at the air. Frustration lit Faiths' face and Connor knew that a powder keg was about to go off. Her hands were already clenching into fists.

"We need to keep moving. The damn trail has already gone cold maybe if he can get Mihai to--"

"Listen to yourself!" A shove from the side sent Angel flying to land unceremoniously into a puddle of mud. His fathers' stunned face would have been hilarious if not for the danger a pissed of slayer provided. "I just threw my damn life away to go chasing after blondie vamp! And I like Spike! Dudes' got a killer bod, wicked moves, ain't got the usual champion stick up he ass and knows his shit. Mans' all that." She drew herself up to her full height that while was no where near Angels' still gave off the impression of a lioness about to go in for the kill. Especially since Angel had yet to sit up from his murky little pond. "But this mission is wack! We know jack shit about this Mihai guy other than what he says! Which was also the creeps that had him tortured according to you! Are you willing to risk everything on a hunch that he might not being riding your ass?!"

"He knows more about the situation than we do." The calm quality of his tone did little to put Connor at ease. He knew that body language all too well how. His father was preparing for a fight, one that seemed unavoidable now. More than that, though he was trying to be reasonable it apparent that Angel wanted a fight just as badly as she did. Whether he actually would let himself go through with it had yet to be seen.

"All the more reason for not trusting him! Shit Angel, I know you did some shady deal with the devil stuff but I thought you'd learn from it! That you'd find a better--"

"Well I didn't alright!" Angel barked wiping the mud from his face with an anger swipe. "I'd love to tell you that I had some great plan to make everything better, Faith, I really do! But guess what--the world doesn't always work like that! Sometimes you have to make compromises!"

She froze, her mouth forming a small "o" , eyes widen in disbelief. Connor felt unsettled by the remark as well. Angel had always told him there were other paths to take. Was he disheartened or worse yet...had that talk only just been talk? His father was on his feet by the time Connor had asked himself these questions. That was when Faiths' fist met Angels' jaw.

"Son of a bitch!" Her foot rose to kick the bent man when Angel twisted it to send her tumbling. A quick twist however saved her from hitting head first.

"We don't have to do this." The vampire warned.

She snorted, "Yeah, we really do."

Faster than Connor could blink Faith launched three quick hits at the vampires' abashment, only one of which had been deflected. Her kick was dodged but it was plain to see that she had the edge. She was lighting quick while Angel was sluggish. Connor worried that maybe Angel hadn't recovered as well as they had hoped he had. It hadn't even occurred to him that there could be another reason for his distraction.

"Guys we're--"

"Stay out of this, Connor." Angels' voice is firm, his attention never wavering from the slayer before him. "Just keep an eye on Illyria, alright?"

Connor hesitates as Faith and his father trade furious blows with on another without missing a beat. The only thing that keeps him from intervening is one simple question. "Where IS Illyria?"

Faith couldn't take it anymore. Not that anyone had been stupid enough to mistake her for the level headed type. That was more Bs' thing but damn it if she hadn't tried. Guilt had made her feel that she owed it to the Sunnydale group to join their little effort in "changing the world." Whether she had added anything to the mix had been a constant question in her day to day life. Big Sis didn't trust her enough to handle the big jobs by herself. Faith hated herself a little for seeing Careys' point about Buffys' friends getting too much control. How the hell did that little shit Andy (or whatever his name was) get to take command over his own group of slayers? That boy didn't even know which end of a stake to hold up much less how to do it without complaining about a splinter. She tried not to let the little things piss her off but they had been piling up for a while now.

Maybe she had been deluding herself with Robin thinking that the normal June Cleaver crap was her sort of life. It made her lose her edge, let people take advantage of her and doubt herself. Faith had thought that Angel at least would have been different. That all her problems would disappear when her vampire sponsor showed up needing help for a righteous mission. She was finally needed. Her, not Buffy.

It was becoming clearer to her that Angel wasn't as focused as he had once been. No prob, she would do her part to set him right like he did for her. Except that Angel was not accepting her help. He wouldn't tell her anything and it was so much like the fucking Council that Faith wanted to kick every inch of his ass. Angel should have known damn well that she wasn't the "yes, sir" type. She would give him a reminder though.

"Don't go all soft on me now! Being in L.A made you tougher, what's making you wimp out on me now?" Faith taunted. The fight was pretty much one sided at this point. He wasn't letting go yet and that could cost them if whatever crawled up his ass kept him from the mission. Damn, she couldn't help loving the feel of skin on skin, fists and blood. Only thing better was taking the guy for a ride after. Or during. "Last time you were this easy B had your ass whipped. Not that I blame you, must suck not to get off that stream with the bumpity bump."

Angel caught her punch before it landed, tightening the hold painfully. "What's really bothering you, Faith? That I want to use Mihai to find Spike--that I don't give a damn about that asshole who tortured him--or that I didn't ask for your permission?"

"I'll take 'you're acting like a prick who needs to get his headout of his ass' for five hundred, Alex!" She snapped ruining the mocking tone her answer had started with. "I didn't question a lot of things I know I should have. Not why we got to trust blue girl, not what is up with that kid with the powers, hell not even why we're winging this whole half-ass rescue mission! I just know that you have to get it together man! You're letting it get to you and acting all crazy just like B..." A light of realization seem to hit Faith then and she stared at him. Really looked at Angel for the first time.

Buffy had always been protective of her honeys. Angel, Riley and even Spike who she claimed she hadn't been interested in by the time Faith had rolled back into town. Like with her other boys she raised hell about anything that threatened him. Denying it all the while. Why was Angel this stressed over getting back Spike? Faith had written it off as Angel needing to redeem his own actions by saving the other vampire. There was only so much loss of his team that the guy could take. And she always assumed that the vampires had the sort of relationship her and B did. At least how it was from her side. Feeling responsible for someone they had wronged and needing to look out for the one person who might have an idea what it was like. Maybe not.

"...Well Damn."

"Faith? What--?"

"You _and_ Spike?" Fear crept into Angels' face then but Faith barely noticed. Her mind was already drifting off to try to fully register Angel and Spike being together. She figured she'd be thinking about that for a long time in any case. Because **damn**, was all she was able to process then.

The barrier called out to her like a beacon in it's present shattered state. Pieces attempting to reform together to form the feeble protection that kept all those who dwell inside safe. At least they assumed they were, none had encountered her kind before. Illyria almost smiled at the thought. Perhaps she would take over this land at a later date to smell the blood splattered on the green in the morning dew. She could wait though, for now she would be content on following the energy to her pet. If any had dared harm her Spike further then they would face the wrath of the god-king themselves. Only she and when she permitted it, Angel, could harm the white haired one. He would only make noises for one her say.


	37. Chapter 37

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks.

**Slip of the hand:** Well he's aware that she claims ownership of him. ;) I do have three different endings in mind so I'm in the dark too.

--

"God, no."

The particular vivid dream was disturbing on levels that would make even his unsouled self cringe. For once it wasn't about flames and past victims that he dreamed about. There was hard muscles pressing up against him, such erotic promises that were actually fulfilled. It had been so intense that Spike was left aching for relief where none was to be found. Worse yet was who was the center of his thoughts. He had tried to tell himself that he wasn't falling for the act being put on to woo him but that was a lie. It wasn't certain when Spike had started to feel something in return he only had become aware of it when the git had started to snog his brains out at their little picnic. Before he was called the mans' personal whore and punished for it.

That should have ended any growing affections. If only his unlife were so simple. The wanker had saved him, been tender in his care, read him sodding poetry and went as far as to reveal painful memories about the past. Spike wanted to believe it was all fake but knew that it couldn't have been. Not all of it. Even if the Count had promised to destroy Spike this was a little much, especially since it put the mans' valued pride at stake every time he made a new attempt. Then again who in their right minds would willingly set out to court him? Wasn't there a rule that he was always the one that put himself out there, even though the likelihood of reject was high?

Spike hated himself for wanting to be seduced, to be pampered by one of his greatest foes. It was insane, nothing would come from it except being used again. It didn't matter if Dracula truly did feel something besides his lust (Spike was still in trying to deny that score) he wouldn't want Spike for long. That seemed to be another hard learned rule. Yet his mind and body were betraying him now. Neither seemed to care about this risk involved. He searched out the words carved into his flesh to remind himself that he would be proving the sadist right by falling into such a trap. The wounds however were healed enough that the letters weren't visible.

"Traitor." He mumbled as if it was his bodys' fault that it healed at a certain rate. That was when he noticed that the band that had remained on had recently been removed. Why would Dracula have it removed? There was too many answers for that question and none of them made any sense to Spikes' already confused brain.

--

"There's nothing going on, Faith."

The slayer and the vampire had given up on their abrupt sparring session in hopes of reaching some type of closure before they went forward. Angel naturally was denying that anything had happened with Spike. He could tell that she didn't believe him, but it WAS the truth. Sure they had sex, that however wasn't out of the norm for them. At least in their unsouled days. It didn't mean that they had a deeper relationship either. The most meaningful conversation since that night that they shared was over the best means to kill a vampire nest without the use of fire. (And he didn't care what Spike said sunlight WAS cheating.)

"Funny, I heard B say the same about you and her. Then her and Spike. So that either means you're lying or there was something before now going on." Seeing that she wasn't going to get an answer Faith swore. "Come on, you know better than to bottle up this crap. Can't be good for the team Angel moral. Unload on me if you got to, I might not have all the answers but it can't hurt."

With a long suffering sigh he rubbed his eyes before setting them deep into his duster pockets. He hated these talks, unless it was Cordy or Spike they always seemed to be so forced. If he didn't talk there was more than a chance that Faith wouldn't give this up and he didn't want to have to explain to Connor what her crude remarks meant. "Spike and I were never anything like what you're suggesting. When he came to L.A. I just wanted him gone. All we ever did was argue--"

"Sexual tension." She commented with a smug nod ignoring his annoyed glare.

"--we sort of came to rely on each other more. It was sort of a nicer version of how it was in the old days. We'd have each others' backs--don't say it--and I didn't have to pretend everything was alright around him like I did for the others. Spike just knew."

"Sounds nice." He raised his head at the longing in her voice. Buffy and her had the potential to be that close once. After the destruction that had come from Faiths' trip to the darker side the other slayer had never really found herself willing to fully forgive or trust Faith. As far as he knew no other girl that had been chosen had reached out to form that type of bond with her either. Angel had never thought about how lucky he was to have Spike until then. Why was it that you never saw what you had before it's gone?

"It was, kind of. You know, beyond the bickering." Angel shrugged not really wanting to dwell on that train of thought. "The soul isn't the easiest thing to live with, I guess we were both lonely and needed something." He had thought that she would use the opening for some jibe, all Faith did was frown in response.

"You mean you guys had a one-night fling?" Her face was calculating in a way that made Angel nervous.

"Umm, yeah."

"Did Spike know it was a one time deal?" There was sympathy in her face and he had a feeling that it wasn't directed at him.

"That's the way it's always been with us. Spike doesn't care who he's--"Angel made a vague hand motion as to fill in the blank for him. He didn't like talking about his own sexual encounters. Not like this. Not when Spike was the one he had sex with. "It means nothing. That's what we both needed."

"You sure about that? Man, Spike can sure pick them." Her hand fumbled instinctively for her lighter seconds before she seemed to realize that she didn't have any cigarettes on her. Looking irritated at this she leveled her gaze at Angel.

"What?! That's how Spike is, Faith. I know him, better than anyone else alive. He might still want to be with Buffy but he wouldn't want anything else from me."

"Hey, I just saying that the guy has the worst luck. Nothing has been easy for him. When I was around him last he had just come back to SunnyD with his brand new soul. No one really gave a shit. Blondie was insane, locked in the basement--a few I think--threatened by pretty much everyone and then gets Bs' 'you're worthless if you're weepy' speech. Not that I was there for all of that. The other girls told me when they were in gossip mode. Which is basically all the time now that I think about it."

Angel didn't like the picture he was getting from this new information. At first he had assumed that Spike had gotten through the agony of the soul within a few weeks by himself. No one had told him that the bleach blond had been driven insane by the soul. Certainly no one had told him about Buffy putting that much pressure on Spike. She should have known better. Did she really rank having another warrior as more important than the long term affects of the soul? Maybe she really hadn't understood and didn't see the long term problems this could cause down the line. He knew that Spike hid how much he was hurting behind false bravado just not why.

"I guess I don't know all the details. B always shuts people out, part of the slayer thing I guess. Might be deeper than that. She did the usual mixed signals thing with Spike. You know what I mean. The 'I'm pretending I don't want you but I'm not letting you go' thing. Dude didn't know which way was up with her. He'd let her go and she would glare when he even look at another girl. I'd be talking shit with him about the kinky element, sharing a smoke on his cot and she'd get all pissy about it."

"You were talking about kinky stuff on his bed?"

"So maybe he wasn't wearing anything under the sheet--it's wasn't like I was under there with him."

"He was NAKED with you sitting on the bed talking about sex?!" Angel sounded on the verge of hysteria making Faiths' cheshire cat grin widen.

"Chill, we were only talking about it because of the chains. Then whipping, cheerleader outfits and who tops."

"Spike had a cheerleading outfit?" The concept truly seemed to baffle the vampire.

"Getting sort of off topic, Angel." She reminded, Angel was too caught up in what she had revealed to turn back though.

"What was the topic, Faith? You just told me about Spike and Buffy--something I never wanted to know by the way--and how she shouldn't have been mad at you for not having sex with him even though you were talking about it!" He really hated when people did this to him. They brought up things like he knew what they were talking about and expected him to follow their insane logic.

"Point is that like B you're getting pretty worked up over nothing. That is what you called it, right? Why are you getting upset about this then?"

Angel wasn't sure what she was getting at, not really. "Fine--I get pissed off whenever one of my ex's finds someone else. Not that Spike is an ex. I'd like to find someone new before him, that's all. I mean I got upset about whoever Darla, Buffy or Cordelia dated so--"

"Cordelia?"

"I...I love her. Loved her." He hated the past tense, everytime he used it he was admitting that she was gone. Faith was the first person he was able to tell. His friends, Spike--they all knew. It was never something that had to be explained to them. Cordelia knew too, she had to have, she had been his best friend. Knew how to give him a kick to the ass enough to get him moving. Angel had never had to say the words and admitting them now hurt. It was too damn late to do any good.

"I'm sorry." Neither spoke for a moment, both lost in their own inner turmoil. It wouldn't last though, the silence would break to get back to the present. Brooding never changed the past no matter how many times he thought of the what ifs. "Do you love Spike?"

"No." It was hard to define what Spike and him were to each other. A pain in his ass? Definitely. A rival, a former student, his second greatest sin, a some times friend, a partner, a 'shag buddy' and a million other things that could never be given titles. They would never be 'in love.' There was too much between them to ever be more. Most of it bloody. They didn't get along, didn't like each other enough to ever feel that emotion. "And before you ask: no, Spike doesn't love me either."

"You a mind reader? How do you know that?"

"Like I said, I know Spike. I admit that it's...possible that I didn't handle the situation right. I might have used him when he need more than animal comfort. It's not love though, I've seen what he's like when he's in love. Spike isn't falling over himself to try to win my undying love. He can't even stand to be in the same room as me. Believe me, it's for the best."

--

Fresh mint smelling soap did wonders to calm the nerves if not quiet the mind. His care takers had left him to soak in private giving Spike time to think. He was so conflicted, unsure what to feel. He needed something desperately though he was not certain what it could be. Understanding? Comfort? Whatever it was he didn't currently have it.

The human blood had given him back a little of his strength, enough to move about for a few moments without collapsing. He stepped out the tub onto shaky legs wrapping a terry cloth towel around his waist out of habit. There wasn't much to do and Spike had pretty much given up on his thoughts of escape. Where would he go anyway? Back to Angel where he would be treated like dirt for the poofs' pleasure? Back to the slayers where his only usefulness would be as a punching bag for the latest recruits to practice with? He knew that he wasn't a loner no matter how much he claimed to be. Spike was tired of having to pretend that everything was peachy keen all the sodding time. Tired of being so damn lonely that he would walk the streets just to see how people would interact with their mates. No matter where he went he would always be the outsider. Too much of a demon for the Scoobies. Too much of a reminder to Angel.

He had fooled himself into thinking that the gang had come to care about him as he had for them. Spike always did and was so terribly shocked when it all came undone. _Stupid bleeding heart wanker_, he thought hatefully. Why did he need so much when he was offered so little?

With a defeated sigh he stumbled over to the window to open it enough to peer outside. His demon wanted to hunt, filled as he was with human blood the lust was reaching feverpitch. He needed something to make him come alive again. To make him feel glorious. Killing...that was too much of a temptation to risk. The cloudy sky wasn't doing anything to smooth his increasingly twitchy nerves. Spike doubted that the soap could work--hold on a tick--cloudy sky? Glancing outside he saw the fog gathering, clearing the sky to move closer to him. Too slow to recoil fast enough it blew into the room to surround him. Spike gasped as the mist touched his bear skin. A million of small caresses seemed to attack his senses at once. Petting his hair, caressing his flesh, filling his lungs. Soon it was all too much to take in and he lost his balance--only to be caught in two well known arms.

"Forgive me, I could not stay way." Draculas' eyes were darker than normal making Spikes' cold body feel a much needed heat. All he could do was continue to stare helplessly as their lips met again. He didn't want to fight it this time.


	38. Chapter 38

**IIMelpomene: **Thanks, I enjoyed writing the end of the chapter. The idea of Dracula coming in from the window to Spike in fog form has been in my head since I started this story so I'm glad to finally write it. Well...you'll see if there is Dracula/Spike to be had this chapter. As for Angel he doesn't even know what's going on.

**Pheobe-128:** Thank you very much. I did get a little frustrated with Spike being the only one to make an effort and figure it would be different to see him being wooed. I wasn't really a Dracula fan myself until the IDW comics (do not like the BTVS comics version of him) and wanted to see if I could make this pairing work. Illyria will be playing a part in upcoming chapters but for now...well...

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks.

**SCiFiRN:** You'll see in this chapter a better picture of where this is going this chapter.

--

Memories of their last encounter had not done it justice. Not of tasting Spike unique favor on his tongue. Certainly not the smooth texture of his skin. He was mapping out the still unexplored regions of this flesh that he yearned to claim as his own. Dracula had wanted to be a gentleman during their 'courtship'. All that had flown out the window at the sight of this sweet temptation. He could not function properly with this distraction this close at hand yet miles away emotionally. Spike for once was not pushing him away. Not conflicted when their tongues dueled in synch to each other.

The Count wanted to be wary of this reaction his mind however was focused on the sweet sounds coming from his intended. Every moan, groan and whimper was heaven to his ears. Spikes' knees buckled soon and Dracula assisted him to the next room. Somehow the pair found themselves stumbling back, barely supported by the Counts' own eager legs. The need was great, worse than even the great unending hunger the plagued him. Skillfully Dracula settled Spike onto the soft covers of the bed. To his utter amazement the towel that Spike had so thoughtfully wrapped around his own waist had remained intact during their move. It was a mild inconvenience really but the sight was exasperating. It did not help his failing patience to see the small bit of cloth stubborning clinging to the ivory skin, concealing his full view of the glory to be had. Perhaps it was for the best though, Dracula wanted to savor every moment of this. Revel in every sensation of Spikes' final surrender to him.

"Bloody--!" Spike gasped when Draculas' mouth found the tender spot on his throat and nibbled it tortuously. Those clever hands of Spikes' had lost some of their dexterity and during a sharp bite to his nipple he gave up in frustration to rip it off instead. Dracula was sure he would be quiet furious at it's lost when he regained sensibility. At least anything that was close to resembling it when he was in Spikes' presence. Then it mattered not for his William was returning his affections with the same fervor. Weakened hand clutching feebly at his shoulders to draw their lips together again. Soon they both were lost in the feeling of the dueling of their tongues. A far more urgent need however forced Dracula to regretfully break the kiss. Spike groaned at the loss of contact not realizing that he was actually pouting.

_I have no strength left to resist you_, Dracula thought desperately as he freed himself from his remaining garments. Heavy lidded blue eyes followed the darker mans' movements much to his satisfaction. Taking his own time to scan his lovers' body Dracula was pleased to see that Spike was as aroused as he was. The obvious tent in the towel made that fact impossible to ignore.

"You are a marvel to behold, Spike." He whispered huskily while letting his left hand trail a slow path down his lovers' cheek. "Such beauty--" the nail snatched the throat drawing a hiss, "--such strength--", fingers lingered on the tightly coiled muscles of one shoulder, "--you haunt me. I can not escape you."

Dracula reclaimed the kissed bruised mouth again with a passion that left them both dizzy. "I no longer wish to."

Spike shut his eyes and vainly attempted to silence himself when the seeking hand was met with a sadistic mouth that was doing wicked things to his torso. The count wanted to turn him into jelly with all the need that was building up. The cool right hand caressing his cheek ruined Spikes' chances for hiding who was doing this to him. Draculas' dark eyes were boring into his making him feel like he was free falling. Nothing had balance anymore, there was a head rush drowning out every sensible thought in his head.

"Keep your eyes open, William. I want you to treasure this night as well." The other hand had finally reached his stomach which was currently clenching with a nervousness that disturbed Spike. Like he was a sodding virgin again. This was worse than any torment Dracula had previously provided, a thought that almost brought a chuckle from him. There was so much confusion and raw pain that Spike found himself wanting to ignore it all to focus on the soft touches. The words alone were more than seductive enough to make him forget what he was doing and how very stupid it was. It was too easy to believe that they were true.

"Don't have to get poofy on me, tosser." Spike said without any real heat to his words. Unfortunately this comment had backfired by making Draculas' fingers circle his belly button instead of reaching it's very obvious goal. Wanker.

"You do not have to hide behind this bravado tonight, William." His unneeded breath caught as fingers ran through his hair, it was such an inmate thing to do. No one outside of Dru had done that. "And if you insist on calling me such endearments..." humor laced Draculas' voice making Spike belly release it's tense enough to sigh. Were they ever going to take care of not-so-little-Spike? "...you may call me, Vlad."

That caused Spike to look up in surprise but Dracula--Vlad?--had returned to his attention to the body spread out under him. Since when had the Count let anyone refer to him as anything other than a superior title? Ever the brides called him "Master" so--Spike gasped forgetting what surely had to have been pointless pondering.

Dracula had separated the folds of the towel with revere to behold Spike in all his splendor. The alabaster skin seemed to glow in the candlelight heightening the Adonis form. Not even the ugly wounds the cruel Romanian had caused could take away from this pulchritudinous creature. It was a laughable offense to Dracula then that humans would call them an affront to god. Spike would make angels weep at his excellence. To think that he a loathed being would now have a chance to taste heaven or at least the closest their kind would have, was almost as intoxicating as Spike himself. The other vampires' scent was not hiding behind the stench of cigarettes now. Lowering himself the Count allowed himself a taste of the offering to be had. Hips lifted on their own accord at his actions and he took that as his permission to go on exploring.

It had been so long since he had last held such child-like glee at anything. Dracula felt younger than he had in years at finally have full reigns to explore his taboo obsession. There were so many things he could show Spike to make him realize that there really was no other choice in a lover than him. He was unsure what had happened to bring Spike to lower his defenses enough to permit this but he vowed to make it unforgettable. To have the images wake the younger man at night with need he had to have fulfilled. To yearn for him with the same intensity Dracula had for him. For this night Spike would finally give in to him and be his.

Spike was really hating himself for being this turned on. He shouldn't have allowed himself to watch then he could fool himself into believing that the other man was a toad. The Count wasn't though, he was hard muscle under sleek skin, dark pools of light were his eyes, and a mane of hair that he had to fight himself from giving into gripping. Glancing at the gits' manhood for a curious look at the goods had prove to be quite the mistake. It wasn't quite as small as he had hoped. The sight of Dracula lapping him up like a kitten had almost been his undoing. That was when he felt something trying to slip past his defenses that caused Spike to emit a hoarse, "no."

Frowning Dracula stared up at him uncomprehendingly and Spike felt the wave of his weak poet self stir strongly. He had only let one other man there before. It wasn't because of some romantic notion that he was only Angels' because he wasn't. After Angelus had left he had mainly stayed among women feeling more comfortable with them. Thus he had never grown close enough to another man to permit this or have one bully him into it like Angelus would. Spike had no idea why he was doing this outside of the very real need to feel. He knew that he was hating Dracula less but he didn't know if he could trust him. What they were doing was stupid, something he would no doubt regret when he allowed himself to finally think about what was happening. The hurt from letting Angel in was still too raw though. Spike had been needy then too and Angel had turned away from him in disgust the next morning. They had both lowered their defense, or so he had believed, but he could not allow himself to let go that much again.

"I can make you feel ecstasy beyond anything you have know." For whatever reason Spike thought that this was meant to placid him rather than brag. It still came off like a boast though.

"Said no. 'M not going to let you try t' make me your bitch." Resolute eyes challenged Dracula to press the issue. He would fight back if he had to, Spike would not let anyone use him again. Much to his vexation Dracula was regarding him with amusement.

"You have such a way with words. They flow into such lovely images but you are severely lacking in imagination, my William." The insult that was on his lips died when a slick hand sought him out. Before he had time to register what was happening Spike found Dracula lowering himself on him. Sensation was sending his nerve ends on fire, Spikes' eyes rolled back as a smug voice soon called out to him. "I have much to teach you about the pleasure to be had, my beautiful stallion."

He didn't mind what position he was to play as Dracula had learned over the years to take delight in many forms. Setting a nice steady pace for Spike to adjust to he set about his mission to fully secure the other mans' desires. He lost the battle not to smirk at the thought that even though he was bottoming he still was riding Spike like he had wanted to. Whatever was left of Spikes' restraint crumbled and they were both returning caresses. Spike was melting against him, acting far more tender than many, including himself would have thought he would be with a lover. His hands were growing bolder as well. Stroking the darker mans' chest, firm buttock before finally returning the attentions to the lords' obvious desire for him.

Filth was spewing from Spikes' mouth, dirty things mixed in with the softer more desired cries. A few would have ruined his momentum if he was not already too far gone. Dracula hated such vulgar talk yet it only served to heighten his lust. More proof that he was being driven mad. Speaking of madness he knew that they both wanted to pick up the pace but denied them both of this. He had waited too long for this night to end it when it could be drawn out. Spike had other ideas of course and attempted to rock his hips faster. To calm his wild one Dracula sought his lips again and kissed him firmly.

It was too much for Spike to take, his emotions and hormones were out of control. The mouth opening up to him tasted unbelievably good. The combined seductive allure of Dracula and blood called out to him. Spike was helpless to do anything other to respond. He noted distantly that Dracula was sniffing him fiercely between kisses. The sound of the bed creaking in tune to their now frantic movements was just backround sound. He was entirely too pleased to hear that they both were panting. Loved making their lot breath. It was a total loss of control, of forgetting themselves. Just when Spike was reaching his climax there was a strained whisper that caught his ear.

"Who am I?"

"Count--urgh--poofula?" Eyes narrow and Spike can't recall what the right answer is. All he knows is that Dracula is going to stop if he doesn't get it right. "Lord of the bleeding undead, alright?!" Nope. "Drac--" Then before he realizes what he's saying, "Vlad--" he gets it right. There's a bright light and Spike doesn't know who came first only that an intense orgasm is taking him over and that it's that name he has on his lips. The next thing he knows he's cradled against another sweaty body having his brow licked.

"Correct. I can not wait to show you more, William. I will show you worlds you never dreamed of."

"Bloody 'ell." Spike blinked. "Sorry, wot? I didn't catch that."

--

**A/N:** _This is my first real sex scene so please be gentle with me._


	39. Chapter 39

**Endiahna: **Well they were "together" in one sense. We'll see how far it will go.

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks.

**Slip of the hand:** Thanks, that was one of my fave to write. :)

**Spikemyangel:** My first plan was to have it go a little different but I figured it was time for it to happen. Things are about it get even more confusing and challenging for everyone.

**SCiFiRN:** Glad you liked that part, I had fun with it. ;)

**llMelpomene**: I hope I didn't disappoint but I wanted to do it a little different for their first time. Not overly romantic and not too animal like. Spike is uncertain while Vlad is trying to show that he is a suitible lover for him. You'll see some of Spikes' reaction here but the whole thing won't sink in completely until a chapter or two.

--

"Will you wait up, Illyria?"

She ignored the boy to study the wall that separated the castle from the country side. The crack in the invisible boarder was close, she could feel it. Energy was stitching its' self back together and should be easy to break... The god-king frowned. Humans were indeed as "tricky" as she had been informed. This would not be as simple as she had foreseen.

"You, Spawn of the bemoaning half-breed, strike here."

"My name is Connor, we've been through this." They had and yet he persisted in trying to futilely change her. She was Illyria lord of all, the child should know better than to dare order her like a the filth of the earth that had once served her. Yet he was not harmed for this outrage. The shells' memories informed her of a shrieking pink bit of flesh that cooed when Burkle tickled it. Those images made her pause to reflect on the strange emotions they invoked.

"Strike here shrill one." Illyria nodded to the spot she had in mind missing the days when her will did not need to be explained. Minions simply thought of her needs and provided. They would die in horrible agony if they didn't. She almost smiled as she recalled the screams.

"Okay, I think I preferred the spawn name better." Stepping closer Connor looked over the location that had been pointed out. "What do you mean by--" His hand came in contact with an unseen force. Energy crackled around his hand lightening the transparent. From what he could see there was a hole in this wall. "Some sort of a force field? Cool. But why are we--?"

"Your kind ask too many unimportant questions. Speaking with useless words with no meaning and less use. This is where my pet is. The barrier needs one with a soul and part demon to break it as Spike has." Connor raised an eyebrow at the slight pride Illyria showed that Spike had broke out before. He wanted to ask more questions but working with her taught him not to get on her bad side. Which usually happened when she had to explain herself. Or if she just felt like it.

--

"I don't want to talk about it Faith, we already lost Connor and Illyria, I'm not going to waste more time arguing when they could be in trouble." To say nothing about Spike. Angel didn't want to think that something could have happened to him--that he could be dead. He would have known, won't he? Have felt it...though he hadn't before. Did sort of dying count?

"Tough. Much as I like jumping in to dust, this isn't how you do things Angel. You usually have a plan. And Dracula is a major player, legendary--"

"We've been through this. He's an overblown ancient vampire that uses tricks he learned from gypsies. The guy is only "legendary" because of novel written about him that people liked because of the underlined themes of repressed sexual desires being released. Sure he has some power to rule and the money he's invested over the years but the guy is a joke. The Count has done nothing impressive since the turn of the century and helped spread stereotypes because he has some dirt fetish." It was tiring to have humans go on thinking all that crap about vampires sleeping in coffins.

"Hit a sore point?" Faith asked with her trademark smirk. Their short spar seemed to have done the trick to help her unload a lot of the tense that had been weighing on her shoulders.

"Not with him personally, I only meant him once before. Though he did swear vengeance on me." Angel shrugged. That was pretty much a normal occurrence for him thus Angel hadn't worried. "Spike has more to fear since he's had this feud with him for decades." Connors' scent was growing stronger which meant that they were catching up to them. The sooner the better, they had to rescue Spike from whatever horrors Dracula had in store for him.

--

"Bugger."

This had been a truly stupid idea that Spike was already regretting. Now that they were entering the "after glow" section of their encounter and he wanted nothing more than to flee. This part never went like his soaps and the endless amount of romance novels he had gotten for Joyce did. Sadly the combined efforts of his still recovering body and their...excise...had left him aching too much to move far. His muscles protested when he struggled to move to his feet. A hand shot out encircling his bicep keeping him trapped. Dark eyes caught his making his unneeded breath catch.

"Let me go, pillock!" The insult loss some of it's impact given the way his voice almost broke. He wasn't ready for this but there really was no delaying it.

"Vlad." He corrected gently pulling the weakened vampire back into his arms. "And I will never be foolish enough to let you wander off again."

"Right, forgot 'M your sodding prisoner." Spike groused, furious as the chuckle this statement received.

"I believe it is only suitable as--"

"The next words better not be 'as you have captured me' ! Even I think that rot is cliche." The irked glare gave him the answer to that one.

"Your pillow talk is not much better than your pet names." Vla--Dracula remarked dryly.

They were drifting off topic when Spike wanted to get to the point. "Can't keep me here forever mate. I'll escape again."

"If that is what you wish." His bed mate said with a smug look that told that he truly doubted it.

"Think I can't wanker?!" Oh, maybe he should rethink that last insult. "Fought slayers, hellgods, and the like. Think breaking out of Van Helsing easiest slay won't be much of a problem."

The irritation at the Helsing remark was quickly smoothed away with a knowing look. "I do not doubt your abilities, just where your true wishes lie."

"Meaning wot?" A not too subtle nudge of his hips against the others' revealed the meaning. Shite, he really did get turned on by the wrong sort. "Doesn't mean anything. Get hard when the wind blows." Spike denied.

"Really? That does explains why you are so irritable. Perhaps I should invest in a fan to help you work on this problem."

"Think I give a flying toss wot you think? Bloody ego manic! I'll--" The weak punch was caught long before it would have landed. Lips curved to reveal the ever present dagger sharp fangs. One second he was ready to tear the Count a new one the next they had some how ended up snogging like a couple of randy teenagers. Why did most of his bleeding bed mates force him to shut up like this? He had a point, a good one mind, just couldn't recall it at the moment. Not with the delicious friction he was getting.

"You are a child." Nails ranked down slim hips to cross perfectly defined globes.

"Yeah? Well you're a prat," teeth bit into his earlobe, "with s-s-stupid greasy hair," said hair brushed Spikes' shoulder while it's owner licked down his throat, "and--ahh--girly nails."

"I see. Perhaps I should cease to allow you to protect your honor. ...At least to form coherent speech." Dracula murmured into the spot where neck met shoulder. Adjusting himself and without giving Spike any time to prepare he sank his teeth into the flesh.

"HEY! None of that you gormless git!" He glared at the Count as he with a familiar sigh released his hold.

"What is vexing you this time, Spike? Is this more of your pretense at outrage simply to frustrate me?" It took the souled vampire a moment to collect his scattered thoughts. The other man was stretched out next to him giving him an excellent view. The scent of their activities was clinging heavily in the room forcing his mind to drift to the night before. The patient dark eyes that seemed to know and somehow broadcast his ego brought Spike back to his complaint.

"You bit me!" A finger jabbed at the lord while his other hand pressed on the wound. Dracula blinked dumbfounded at the statement before his mouth fell open.

"You are a vampire." He drew the words out slowly as if the concept was something that had yet to be comprehended.

Spike huffed. "KNOW that, tosser! Doesn't mean that I like getting poked in the neck!"

His siring hadn't been that bad once the loss of blood had made him giddy. That and being felt up while he was dying. He never had gotten into the biting into each other part afterwards. The others loved it, Dru liked doing it whenever the fairies told her to have tea. Darla and Angelus weren't as random. Darla would rarely so either when she demanded his attention or when it was proper-like to do in places like the Masters' court. Angelus liked doing it to mark him as his property, usually during sex because he bloody well knew that Spike hated it--especially then.

"You...do not like being bitten?" The disbelief could not mask his badly contained disappointed. Drinking from Spike had been one of the intimate encounters he had been looking forward to once they had consummated their passion. For him to detest it felt like he was sneering at Draculas' other performance.

"'Course not! It hurts like a bitch--not the kind a bloke wants either! 'Bout as much fun as getting kicked in family jewels!"

This was not how Dracula had hoped their "morning after" would go. Being rejected from entering his lovers' body twice! He could cope with the former, understanding how daunting it was for some men to let go of their human concepts. The loss of the latter, of piecing his fangs into Spikes' flesh for a taste grieved him more. He couldn't offer his own blood with the sting of this denial.

Spike was still rubbing his neck viciously only succeeding in smearing his blood into a gory mess. Heedless of this he went on muttering to himself. "--have to have this stupid kink--"

A thought occurred to Dracula then, he had never heard of this particular dislike among vampires. While Spike was unique in many respects it seemed strange that he should loath this aspect. Spike had been very responsive to touches, it was possible that he was overly sensitive to stimulants. It could prove to be a very enlightening experiment. "Perhaps none of your other lovers knew how to do it properly."

Spike snorted ruefully, pointedly ignoring Dracula listing himself as a lover. "Doesn't take much talent to sink your teeth in, mate. 'Sides you didn't manage to 'do it properly' yourself, eh?" To prove this he waved his red hand at the darker man not expecting to find himself imprisoned in his arms again. "Let go you--" a swipe of a skillful tongue silenced him. Vlad was not finished with him yet.

--

"Adela!" The old woman was lying on the floor slumped over with a thin trail of blood running down her face. Five guards were tossed about the room giving off the impression that they had not had time to call alarm to their attackers. Barking out in her native tongue Anselina called for the others. The sharp edge of a battle axe suddenly came to rest at her throat drawing tiny beads of blood to spill from the shallow cut.

"Take us to your master half-breed. We will have words with him." A woman with streaks of blue hair proclaimed drawing the blade back slightly. "Hopefully he will last longer than the others."


	40. Chapter 40

**SCiFiRN:** I love Illyria too and you will see some more of her in this chapter.

**llMelpomene**: There have been a lot of stories with vampires biting when their intimate and I wanted to do a twist on that though it is based a little on canon. In ATS Angel/Darla seem to enjoy it during his dream/flashback that Darla gives him. In Destiny Spike pushes Harmony away from him as soon as she bites him. I think that if he enjoyed it he would have no problem with her doing it.

**Slip of the hand:** Thank you! Another Illyria lover huh?

**Spikemyangel:** Same here. Spikes' stay with Dracula is a huge part of the plot. As for the crazy things...well we're getting there.

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks.

**Endiahna:** Well here's the next chapter so you don't have to wait any longer for it.

--

The noise coming from the halls was disturbing, it had interrupted his time with Spike making the dark lords' mood sour. Hitching up his pants with grumbled protest Dracula dressed to discover what the devil that racket was himself. He didn't dare glance in Spikes' direction knowing that if he did he would see the other man in all of his indecent glory then he would be truly lost. His greatest mistake was assuming that the vampire would stay in the room while he went check it out himself.

"Go back to bed, this matter does not concern you."

"Oi! 'M not one of your birds that comes whenever you snap your fingers! Me own man here, don't take orders mate!"

"No, but you are still to remain here where you may recover from your ordeal." The wavy curls softened the contemptuous glare Spike sent his way making his un-beating heart clench at the sight. Spike was trying to resist him even now. Dracula had never wavered on his resolve to have this hot tempered vampire. Yet he felt...he refused to acknowledge it as hurt...it was vexing. Putting up the brave front tended to make it easy to forget how fragile Spike could be. Weaken as he was from his injuries would not help matters.

"That does it--" Wincing Spike attempted to rise, he was not allowed to do more than shift his weight.

"Indeed it does. I will not tolerate this behavior. Be still or will I have to resort to drastic measures to ensure your safety?" The shuffle at the door seemed too clumsy to be the guard, it had to have been Hans and Jon. They would not do much in their present state against greater threats they were however stronger than Spike currently was. "Now be still. You would not like it if I were to resort to chains."

The smell of Spikes' sudden arousal made the dark lord pause at the threshold. His mouth stretched into a wicked grin and he had to glance over at Spike when he asked: "Or would you?"

At Spikes' stunned expression he left feeling himself return to better spirits. They would have time to discover each others desires in full later. The chains were a welcomed addition, one Dracula definitely approved of. Internally he scoffed at himself for letting his libido take him over--again. To be fair it was more than distracting to have a ravished William the Bloody laid out in front of him. Though it might have been for the best given the soreness of muscles that had not been used in many years.

Going down several flights of stairs Dracula marveled at his guards' inability to do their jobs. Perhaps it was time to find new employees but it was not like he could easily post in the wanted ads. Who knows what sort that would attract anyway. Following his enhance hearing to the sounds of the struggle Dracula came onto the scene. The sight in front of him seemed quite unreal. An achingly thin brunette girl was one-handedly holding back a straining Anselina. He could not place where he saw her before she spotted him. She beamed cheerfully at him calling out in southern drawl, "Oh hi, you wouldn't happen to have a souled vampire would you? We're looking for one, their kind of rare, though technically you could give more vampires souls but I think that would be messy."

"What--oh yes. We met at Worfram and Hart when I severed my relations with them. You are Spikes' friend." He answered distractedly. His manners were overridden by the fact that the girl he had threatened with ease was now holding back a vampire herself. As if cued by his confusion her body language shifted.

"I tire of these games half-breed." The womans' accent disappeared along with the warmth in her countenance. Her brown eyes blinked to ice blue before his amazed eyes. "Return Spike or suffer my wrath."

"What are you?"

"Illyria, God-King." With that said she threw Anselina across the room forcing Dracula to rush into action to save the bride. He did not have the chance to recover before a hand smacked him hard into the wall.

"What ever you may be, you will suffer for this girl!" No sooner were the words out of his mouth when a boot connected with the side of his head.

"Such insolence. I will remove the tongue from your head to cease this ranting of yours! Now where is my pet?" Her speed was amazing, her strength was without peer here. Having lived so long Dracula had known (grudgingly) when he was outclassed. He would not give up by any means, the woman had mentioned Spike, but he would do so on his terms. His body became intangible to blanket the hallway in a thick fog.

The blue woman did not move from her spot merely narrowed her frigid unforgiving eyes. "This is what you use to battle a god? Pathetic. In my day such tricks were used for the amusement of the young when the prey would attempt to ply on pity that was not there. Their lives were not spared and neither will yours. Return my pet and I will grant you a quick death, half breed." There was a pause where she seemed to consider her words. "I will only keep you alive one month instead of decades."

She made it sound like her offer of prolonged pain was very generous. "It is said that you are a ruler. If this is true you are a very poor one that flaunts power you fail to command. A true master would have crushed their enemies to dust after such an opening. Instead you are outwitted by a child."

Not allowing himself to listen to he chose that moment to attack in the form of a wolf, the woman did not even glance at his location she merely lifted him up when he neared. "A drooling breast. This is your best attempt. How fitting."

The dark lord decided that he truly detested her then. The feeling was confirmed a moment later when she slammed him into the floor. Was there no end to the insufferable creatures tormenting? He had seen children playing with insects in such a manner. Wings would be stripped and legs to be broken. Strangely this Illyria seemed more like one of these insects than human. Her almost detached study of him while she slowly smacked him about held no emotion that his eyes could decipher. Yet Dracula was able to see that she was clearly the type that wouldn't mind using a magnifying glass to set him ablaze even if she did not have a dispute with him.

He's not sure how long he has been engaging this enemy (he refuses to believe that the battle is one that he is losing or can not escape from.) Through the leather covered limbs that strike out at him the count sees movement from the stairs. Amazingly the self proclaimed god halts her violence to glimpse at the intruder. Slowly but determined Spike steps down into the battle zone leaving a confused pair of vampires lingering on the stairs in his wake. It was not hard to imagine that Spike had been able to outsmart them to get the duo to escort him out when they should have been standing guard.

"Spike. I am pleased to see that you remain undead." Illyria gave the injured vampire an once over. "You are weak. Tell me who did this and their remains will be pinned to the walls of my castle so that all will know of their fate."

Blue fire burned in her eyes and Spike had to hide a small grin. Not many got this outraged at him being hurt. Usually it was ignored for more important matters. Sure she liked to bring a lot of the pain herself on to her "pet" but in a way it was the closest she got to showing affection. Nice to have proof that someone cared about him. Spike was also amused at the idea of Illyria scattering remains in her "castle" back home. He could imagine her pinning up the bits to the hotel much to Angels' horror. Unless she meant to claim this castle. You never could tell with that bird.

"He's dead, luv." The less said about that raw bleeding pain the better. "Quite an entrance you made. Nice and subtle." He would not ask--"Soooo...does anyone know that you went on a holiday...?"

Spike half yearned for and half feared the answer. After so much waiting for this moment, to have someone come to his aid for reasons other than need of information or needing another fighter... Did anyone else come with her? If they did was it because they needed him for the big battle? He felt all of his old insecurities flaring up made worse by his recent torture session.

Illyria of course didn't understand the importance of the question and true to form dismissed it. "Yes they do. I only wish I could have crushed the skull of your abuser myself. No one harms what is Illyrias' property."

A gasp of protest reminded Spike of Dracula and he tried not to feel too uncomfortable. A lot had been muddled during his imprisonment. The git had a thing for him, they had recently shagged and was finally was being rescued. Why did he feel so conflicted? Vlad was an old foe of his that must of taken advantage of his current state to get what he wanted. Spike didn't want to believe there was more to it than that. Who would go out of their way to woo him for long term? Even if it had been based on real feelings Vlad would find someone else soon enough. Where would that leave him?

Yet he had felt more welcomed here lately than he had felt at the hotel since that infamous night. Did Angel even want him back? Did anyone besides Illyria? Would it be more of the same if he returned? Spike didn't want to go back to that. He couldn't stand the coldness anymore. There was a third option and like usual he knew that he wouldn't work. Never had been the loner type and he had no where else to go.

Glancing at the vampire under her boot and back at Spike understanding bloomed. "You have shared fluids." Illyria stated knowingly.

Spike sputtered feeling entirely too hot for a creature without a pulse. Realizing that neither of them had taken a bath since THAT reminded him that they really needed to if anyone else with a keen sense of smell was coming around. "Let's...uh...you see we...that is...Illyria who came with you?"

"The spawn, the slayer--"Spike cursed feeling even more exposed. Buffy was here?!

"Need to change, get a bath, bloody hell!"

For his part Dracula was stuck speechless at the sight of Spike panic attack. With a tiny nod he sent Hans and Jons' away knowing that as usual they were useless. The woman finally released her hold on him. Unable to look at Spike the count told him on passing where he could wash up. There was no denying the hurt this time.

"Illyria?" He was tired of chasing her though the maze of a castle. The whole chase would have been much faster if she actually had a scent to follow. Connor had no idea how long they had been separated, maybe a half an hour? Less? There wasn't even the usual trail of chaos to lead him to her. That was beyond weird as far as Illyria was considered.

This place did reek of vampires and he had to keep a stake handy just in case. Angel said that Dracula had some magic tricks and the ability to use a thrall. Well Connor could deal with that. At least he hoped so. Shifting through the different scents he froze near the railing when he picked up a familiar one. Spike. Feeling exited he climbed the staircase two steps at a time. In the hallway outside what looked like a parlor stood Illyria watching a ranting man running a towel over his head. As he drew closer Connor listened carefully to the voice.

"I knew you wouldn't stick to the basic black look forever but I didn't think you would pick out such a retro look."

Turning swiftly around Spike stared at Connor with open mouth shock. It was bizarre to see Spike without his usual bleached blond hair and leather. He didn't get too far into comparing the changes before he rushed over unable to resist the sudden impulse to hug the vampire. Too many family and friends had been lost to him in the past for him not to feel thrilled to see one alive. Just when he was being embraced back Connor gave Spike a solid punch in the shoulder.

"Wot the hell was that for?"

"For taking stupid risks that could have got you killed." He hadn't realized how worried he had been until seeing his friend alive. "Don't ever do that again."

"Right. No doing anything heroic again. Guess I best retire on some not too sunny beach then." It was hard not to smile. "Missed you too, junior."

"More fluids. Disgusting." Illyria stated scornfully at the tears Connor tried not to shed. He guessed that he must have gotten his emotional side from his mother. For some reason Spike always laughed when he said that.

No one seemed to notice the glowering figure in the shadow.


	41. Chapter 41

**SCiFiRN:** That line alone is the reason I had to have Illyria find Spike first. I always thought that Spike/Connor would get along fine (which thankfully the comics agree with) and really they are two people I find it hard to believe wouldn't connect so strongly. Well...you'll see a little more of that but not the way you expect in this chapter. Oh, yes and as you can see I did write another chapter. ;)

**Endiahna:** You'll see more in this chapter but not--you'll see. :)

**NikaDawson:** Thank you, Illyria is a challenge for me.

**Shinigami's Voice**: I don't want to discountinue this story I've just been overly tired from work. I always got the impression that Spike interests Illyria, he had to in order for her to want to claim him as her pet when she sees most lifeforms as being beneath her notice. She sees his loyal nature too so she would like that. Dracula hadn't been used to feeling this way about someone and being torn up about it for awhile. It's a little confusing.

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Alright.

**Spikemyangel:** You might see that contest later depending on how the story plays out. ;) I'm happy to see that Connors' reaction pleased people as I almost toned it down. Have you read the comics? If so then you can understand one thing that pleased me about them. There was a reason that Illyria and Connor had to find Spike first as mentioned above. Hmm, gotta admit that in all three of my endings I never thought about Illyria staying with Spike like that. But I'm not sure it would work out. She would try to take command from Dracula, not let her Spike out of her sight for long and general ego comparing. ;P

--

_"Who travels for love finds a thousand miles not longer than one."  
Source Unknown_

"He's pouting again." Elsa remarked haughtily. Her recovery from the spell Mihai had her under had not made it easy for her to cope with the sudden shift in her lovers' attention. As a bride for many years she had liked when he doted on her. Dracula hadn't been interested in only her for decades. He hadn't been this taken with a lover for...well Elsa had never seen him in such a state before.

Pining for another vampire, a man, with a SOUL! Falling to pieces simply because of this Spikes' friends arrived. She recalled a time when such a thing would make no difference in his schemes. Dracula would have kept them away from his intended. If he could not (which seemed to be the case now with the blue haired witch) he could use it to his advantage. The master wasn't even trying to do so. He was already defeated. It was maddening.

The other brides gave her disapproving glares which she promptly ignored. "If you will not even fight for this man then he is not worth the effort. Don't linger in shadow to grieve his loss, get rid of him."

"Be silent Elsa." The lord of the castle warned. Naturally it was not heeded.

"Why should I be? You are mourning some old foe of yours. One that you repeated scoffed at being worthy of your attention in the first place. He has rejected you--repeatedly--and you let it affect you so. Your hair is already turning grey." She pointed out helpfully. Whenever he was depressed Dracula let his form change for great lengths of time. It varied depending on his mood. Once he became an old man, twice a bat that stayed in the rafters for days. Elsa would wager he was turning into a wolf to curl up for days on end. It was thankfully a rare event but he was choosing an ill time for it.

"Do not be made a fool of!"

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and his steps changed course. Out the door all of them noticed that his hair regained it's original color.

"Knew a guy that lived in a posh place like this once. Usual M.O. for a guy in a mansion and shit is to be into the hard core stuff. Bet Dracula likes his S. and M too." Faith mused as they passed a collection of medieval torture equipment.

"He IS a vampire, Faith." Her companion reminded her as if she had forgotten this fact. His answer brought a wicked smirk to her face.

"So you're saying that all vamps that live in places like this are kinky bastards?"

"Yeah, goes without saying--"Angel suddenly remembered that he had been living in an abandoned mansion when he had first met Faith. "--that it's just an unfair stereotype."

"Uh huh. Seems you guys can't catch a break. Do you want a hug or something?"

He rolled his eyes. "I think I can manage, thanks."

They were closing in on Connor, he could tell. Once they did they would have the team together and be able to track down--

"Angel? You okay?" The slayer asked a little worried that Angel had come to an abrupt stop that had almost cause them to collide. Angel however was frozen to the spot inhaling something deeply. His eyes lit up and she felt it in her bones. It was what she was missing with the slayers but always found with Angel even during the worst days of her life. Hope.

It was nice to have mates even if Spike kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which might be soon. They wanted to get the hell out of dodge and were concerned about Spikes' weak condition. He didn't know how to explain Dracula to them. Illyria might understand a bit in her own strange way. Connor wanted to know why they were allowed to see Spike in the first place. He had no answer for that one.

"Do we even get involved in this war?" The boy asked as if the vampire before him had all the moral answers.

Luckily for him someone else replied for him. "That young man is the only option you have."

The elder of the Kalderash tribe Adela was standing shakily on her feet at the door. She smiled in amusement at Connors' delayed fighting stance.

"You see this is where one of you are supposed to decide the tide of this battle. Whether it even takes place." At the youths' questioning gaze Spike muttered, "sodding prophecies" as his guess. "That is why you can not leave. I assure you that I will not allow any in this dwelling to harm you--"She added at Illyria piecing glare, "--however you must remain."

"As if you could stop me." Illyria scoffed.

Not bothering with replying to her the woman turned to Spike. "You my dear have been requested to meet the master in the gardens. I suggest the rest of us prepare for dinner."

Illyria was more confident than Connor that it was alright to leave Spike by himself. She was sure that her foes were too fearful of her might to test it again. Maybe the greater good didn't interest her much, it proved less dull than the "prattling of intercourse between vampires" would. She did not want more tiresome bickering to watch after having witnessed Angel arguing with Spike. The god king did refuse to let Spike go back down the many staircases in his tired state. It was made less embarrassing by the fact that few were around to see him thrown over one of her shoulders like a sack.

"Harm my pet any further and there will not even be so much as ash to spread, half breed." She informed the gobsmacked count while she set Spike down on a bench. "The fangless one and I will seek less dull surroundings. It saddens me to see the green silent." Connor hesitated a moment then deciding that it was pointless to argue with her followed. He did ask outloud why Dracula looked like Michael Jackson much to the Counts' dismay. A muttered "tourist" was his only reply.

When they had vanished Spike knew that they were supposed to talk about plans and such. He couldn't speak, had no idea what to say really. In the end it wasn't up to him to get the ball rolling. "This changes nothing. You are forbidden to leave."

The coldness in Vlads' voice chilled him enough to face him again. Where there had been tenderness was now harshness. The unyielding vampire from the legends not the lover was with him then. "I already told you, mate, not your property."

Did this tosser forget how not to long ago Spike had been called his personal whore? Did he even care? Why did it hurt to see Vlad back to the sort of controlling wanker he pegged him to be? "You are my prisoner are you not? That is what you insist on referring to yourself as." The words came out like daggers making him less certain if his still fragile recovering self could handle this confrontation.

"What else would you call it? You kidnapped me--"

"I bought you." Vlad corrected and he instantly regretted it by the look on Spikes' face.

"That doesn't make me yours." He hissed, angry at himself for getting this upset. It was true that he gave himself away to be someones' whore before. That didn't mean that he wanted to repeat that mistake. Not that his host thought about that, he was only thinking about another rejection.

"I would have thought our night together did." A second later he almost added "I am yours" before backing out. Vlad had already revealed too much to Spike without getting much back.

This was not wanted Spike wanted to hear right now and keeping himself in the good graces of a bored god king by staying with his own wannabe Romeo was not in the cards. Not by a long shot. Was he supposed to make nice until they stopped buying time for whatever the grand plan was? If so then they were sadly mistaken. He would not stand for it...as long as he could stand in the first place.

"Did it mean nothing to you?" The pause and the evasive posture was enough of response for Dracula. They could not have a conversation with Spike not so much as glancing at him. Roughly, more so than he planned, the darker vampire pulled him around causing Spike to yelp. It was more in shock then in pain but it served to alarm more than just the Count.

For the second time that night Dracula was taken by surprise by an attack. This one had him flipped over another body and into the fountain. Stone broke on impact breaking the wings of one of the sculpted angels. Enraged the count brushed his wet hair out of his eyes to see another equally pissed vampire.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that." The new arrival remarked.

"Angelus!"

"Angel actually, come on, we've been through this."

Sitting forgotten was Spike watching the scene play out. He had dreamed of having the gang come to his aid, never had he really believed that Angel would come for him without being dragged along. The whole thing was surreal for him, he couldn't move, couldn't speak, only watch. Not that he could add much to the fight mind. Spike would just try to let it sink in. Angel had come for him...hadn't he? Of course he had, bloke knocked Vlad off his feet after all.

"Where is Spike?"

Okay, that answered that. Lucky for him that Angel had looks since he wasn't the sharpest knife in the bunch.

"You are a fool!" Dracula snarled pulling Angel into the fountain with him where the sound of flesh hitting flesh was the only part of the fight that wasn't obscured completely by the water. From his spot on the bench Spike could smell the scent of Angels' blood being spilled. Yet he couldn't find it in himself to say anything.

"Stupid--" splash,"--Gary Oldman wannabe--"slap,"--bastard!" Angel cried out through grunts of pain.

"Spike?" Said vampire turned to see Faith frozen in the middle of going to help Angel to look at him quizzically. "That you?"

"Faith? I thought blue said that Buffy was here?" He blurted out.

"Disappointed?"

"Bit relieved actually." His life was confusing enough already without adding Buffy to the mix. He could only imagine her reaction to his current situation. 'Gee Spike, you have had sex with two guys? Both of whom formally wanted me?' Then there would be more angst about where they stood and him being a prat for not telling her that he was alive.

"Faith watch out he's a vampire!" Angel shouted over the yell of his foe.

"Kind of figured that out a year or so ago." She chuckled checking him out. "The hair isn't a big loss but I'm seriously missing the leather."

"What are you talking abou..." Angel trailed off to stare at Spike. He looked some what like a gaping fish when his mouth dropped and his eyes bugged out. His wet hair laid flat trickling water down his amazed face. Under different circumstance Spike would have found it bloody funny to see his grandsire this startled. The truth was that Angel hadn't looked at him without anger in a long while much less with such wonder.

In the backround he noted Vlad was watching it unfold but he was nothing more than a black dot in Spike vision then. The world disappeared when Angel took a step forward to perhaps see if this was real himself. During his stay here Spike had thought on how this would play out many times. Each one was different. Now after waiting what seemed like ages to finally see Angel in person there was only one course of action to take. It was more of an impulse than anything else though he was sure he would have acted the same even if he had more time to think on it.

Thus once Angel had gotten within arms length Spike had hit him in the nose.

"OW! 'Amn it Ike! Wat was dat for?!" The brunet yelled clutching his surely broken nose.

"Wot took you so sodding long?! I could have been dust by now! Did you get lost? Couldn't recall how to get back to the place you munched on a girl to earn your bloody soul?! Or were you just taking in the sights?!"

"Ad layer problems! And 'llyria!" The older protested waving his free hand about frantically. "Way t' show 'hanks Ike!"

"Why where are my manners! Thanks ever so Angel for taking time out from coming after me to visit Buffy!" Because what else could he mean by slayer problems if Faith was helping him out?

"NO! 'Ever saw 'er!"

"Hmm, I must admit I did not foresee this happening." The Count murmured to himself. With any luck he could great his revenge on Angelus after the crisis was at an end without angering Spike further.


	42. Chapter 42

**SJ123:** Thank you. :D

**SCiFiRN:** Thank you. Faith just sees it how it is and Angel is still mad about Dracula being resonsible for the unfair myths about their kind. ** ;)**

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever:** Thanks.

**pheobe: **Likely this hasn't been updated soon enough but I'm trying. You will get to see more of Angel/Spike but trust me that neither pairing is perfect. Even IF Spike falls for Dracula there are still big issues there. Spike will take a good long look at his options.

**Sihara:** You getting a taste of the tension to be had. I'm glad that you are enjoying Dracula/Spike, the reason for me writing this story was mainly to see if I could make the pairing work. Before the IDW comics I didn't really care for him much but I saw the potential and was a little shocked that no one explored it. Angel....well he has his own issues which have been seen a little already but will likely be explored more.

**anon:** The battle for Spike affections isn't over yet.

**faisa: **Thank you so much, it's always a pleasure to see someone de-lurk for a review. You read it all in one go? :o That's quite a high praise. I never thought that my Illyria was quite there yet but I'm amazed with how much readers seem to enjoy her.

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Stupid Spike, couldn't even be thankful that they even bothered coming to save his ass. Their reunion would have to be put on hold for the little group discussion that was being gathered in the main dining room. The formal talks bored him almost as much they bored Spike. The elder gave Dracula a respectful nod then turned to glower at Angel. Great, like he didn't have to put up with enough without more old news. Yeah, so technically this feud thing with Dracula was his fault, because no one could ever forget that one gypsy girl but at least he was bothering to put up with this crap. Faith wanted to try the diplomatic approach anyway, something about slayer dreams, so he had pretty much put her in charge of the affair. It wasn't like they were in much of a mood to hear him out and his nose still hurt like a bitch. Damn Spike.

His glare softened when he took in how beat up the younger vampire was. It was easy to forget that for all his bravado Spike had always been a little more vulnerable. More human. Gone where the unflattering pieces of his punk persona to reveal, well, William. It was a strange sight to see the slayer of slayers decked out like he had been in days past. Like some sort of strange time warp that mixed in different eras together. His hair was it's natural hue with the tips just lit with the fading bleach strands. Unruly honey hued curls made the vampire seem more touchable. Already Angel was overcome with an urge to reach out to test the softness to compare it to his own memories. He did recall with perfect clarity how much tougher the hair was when heavily slicked back with gel until he repeatedly ran his hands through enough to loosen the strands.

The clothes themselves were close enough to the type Spike favored between 1890 to at least 1900. Spike loved to hold on to a style as long as he could, Angel mused.

The collar of the jacket Spike was now hugging tightly...why did that seem familiar? Angel closed his eyes to replay the images from his memory. There was Spike clinging to his duster when he was a ghost as if doing so would bring him unneeded warmth. Was he scared of something now? Ignoring the little kicks Faith was giving him under the table to gain his attention he looked back at Spike.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, not making eye contact with anyone. Shoulder slouching the collar of his jacket bunched up to reveal a reddish area. Angel frowned wondering what sort of torture was done to him there. It was a pretty distracting sight for Angel who's eyes kept being drawn back to it. Spike obviously feeling the the weight of a set of eyes on him glanced up. Much to Angels' surprise he looked up at Dracula who was watching him just as intensely. That was when the champion in him stirred. Whatever had occurred before they could get here had to be affecting Spike deeply and this old vampire was trying to use it to break him. Why else would he be taunting Spike all evening? Bastard hadn't had enough before they had come around and was making the most of humiliating the former blond in front of them.

Take their meeting for example, the Count should have been sitting with his advisers and brides right? Instead Spike was forced to be seated next to him while Angel sat on the other side one bride down from the Elder seated at Draculas' left. He couldn't sit on the other side as Faith and Connor had taken the seats. Illyria had refused to sit claiming that she would not sink to their "level" but would not let any one else sit in the space either. Dracula had to be doing something as Spike was far more quiet than he usually was. He almost seemed nervous.

"--I am confident that this matter will be resolved in a satisfying manner for all." Dracula had told the room at large while he glanced meaningfully back at his prisoner. A small tremble that most missed passed through Spikes' body at whatever dark threats were being hidden in that double meaning.

"We might have a different idea of what satisfying is." Angel cut in, paying no mind to the half relieved half annoyed grumble coming from Faith. Thankfully his nose had healed enough with the animal blood being served to stop making a fool out of himself with his slurring of words. It did not heal enough to stop hurting.

A faint snort came from Spike drawing a scowl from Dracula. "Perhaps, your view is shunted given your own limitations with the soul." He challenged. Damn, when did this get from being a truce, to protecting Spike from further abuse to this (what he assumed was) slam at his manhood?

"I kind of doubt that given how many tend to agree with my point of view. Of course I think you'll find that your standards don't quite measure up with mine." Someone groaned, a snicker was muffled, a person rose from the table but the two men still glowered at each other. Angel internally cowed at the anger no matter how muted it was on the Counts' face. As Angelus he had never been very social with other vampires, that was more of Darlas' thing, and above all else he detested those older vampires who thought themselves better than him. Okay so Angel was pretty much the same but he had met Dracula once before during his stint as CEO to the L.A. branch of Worfram and Hart. They had been fine, very professional about the meeting. The Count had been respectful even in the face of his own disappointment in the firm. Angel had not given into the hype like Harmony had to swoon at the legend. Everything had gone smoothly until Spike the unfriendly ghost had arrived.

He had been besides himself with glee at being able to annoy both vampires and reveal the missing link between them. The gypsy girl. When matters were settled thanks to Spikes' ruse of a threat of haunting Dracula until he turned to dust Angel had managed to convince their foe that he was the true enemy and Spike was a waste of his time. That choice was made out of guilt for the girl he had murdered and surprisingly for the pain he caused his vampire family. Spike had taken the blunt of it as he had assumed the role as man of the house. Of course the bleached blond was far from pleased with this change since he liked the idea of having a well known arch-enemy and didn't want to share with Angel.

What was strange was that Angel really wasn't bothered with the Count until they arrived. His concern about Spikes' treatment had made him worry about what state he would find the younger vampire in. Dracula had been hurting him when they came on to the scene, he was sure of it. Having Spike returning with them without a fight didn't seem like an option given the manner in which Dracula was asserting his control.

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Paranoia was making it seem like there was a hot spotlight shining over Spikes' head. This was supposed to be when Angels' Avengers were bringing him back to L.A. where he would return to his endless bickering with the poof until they both dusted. Yet here they all were seated all together like one dysfunctional family sitting down for dinner. He was feeling a might bit sore about being left to rot for so long at Draculas' tender mercy but there was a more pressing concern. The tension was smothering him and so many of those gathered were clueless about it. Spike had shagged the two other male vampires, and not since his Victorian days had he felt so troubled about sexual and social issues colliding. Didn't make sense in the long run with all he had done in the past, still Spike felt like if he was noticed they might force him to have "whore" craved into his chest once more. Of course it was all in his head and making him extra sensitive to each harmless glance.

Spike wasn't with anyone per se (Vlad might see it differently) he had every right to do whatever he pleased with who he wanted to. Wasn't like Angel would care as he had made that point very clear. Yet Angel was prone to throwing his weight around when he felt something of his was being taken. He didn't really have to want what was threatened, he just liked to prove his point that whatever it was had belonged to him. Drusilla was a prime example of this. Spike was tired of being used in general. Tired of the games that always seemed to go along with whatever affair he had been caught up in. It made him nothing more than a chess piece in some elaborate game that he could never hope to master. Love, prophecies, higher power mind screws, it was all the same. Spike was always someone's bitch.

Vlad was a little too touchy at the moment. Whenever possible he would stroke Spikes' leg under the table to comfort himself that the other man was still with him. Sneaking looks at him to best test his reaction. Vlad seemed to become more bold with at each passing moment. His pride with adding Spike to his list of conquests must of inflated his ego farther. While this was annoying on many levels and threatened to make his proper gentleman self cringe at the cliche part of him couldn't help preening at the attention. For awhile Spike attempted to think of once, just once when he was the sole focus of someone. He couldn't account for any since he had been turned. Was it really so wrong that he had found some comfort with someone who hadn't used him as a substitute to fill the void? Someone who he knew damn well that he could never measure up to in their eyes? Might have been another mind game but Spikes' head was telling him this was real. Since love wasn't clouding his judgment he was inclined to agree to an extent.

There was not a thing that he owed Angel. What happened between them was an one time thing that Spike simply had read too much into. Even now Angel didn't bother glancing at him other than to glare at the bloody nose he had received. Why did Spike feel lost like he was the one in the wrong then? The other champion had made it painfully clear that he never wanted to lower himself by shagging him again thus asking for more was laughable. That night though...much as he tried to fool himself into coming around to Angels' point of view he could still recall what he had felt fondly. Wasn't love either but it was as close as he felt that he'd ever come to being understood. That had been a lie. One that caveman brow had even fooled himself into believing to keep away the cold.

More than ever Spike wanted--needed to feel something beyond the pain. When he was alive William would fill books with his inner most desires. To have his thirst for love finally sated. That wasn't going to happen in this unlife. For over a hundred years he had been denied a complete and honest love. Having a lesser relationship with Angel would never come close to that. He got that now. It would be worse than what he had with Buffy. Maybe they would connect to bond with their souls but the memories would swallow them whole. Spike would serve as a reminder to Angel of every dirty deed he committed and every person they tainted. The hate would well up, blood would be spilled and they would go on the merry-a-go-round of suffering. Never able to break the cycle. They would need to punish themselves too much to ever end it. There would be no perfect happiness with them. There would only be agony. Not just of that sort, no, it certainly wouldn't end there.

Like with the slayer Spike would be Angel dirty little secret. His private sex slave for whenever he got that inch. The gang would never be made aware of it, of their mate's greatest shame. Just like with Dawn the poof would forbid him to hang out with Connor. Bit by bit Spike would be pushed further from the group until he returned to his special task as the pit bull that they would unleash when they finally had use for him. Otherwise he would be put to use by Angel by other means. Because there really wouldn't have been any other option if Angel had wanted him.

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Nothing would have made Vlad happier than to lock Spike up in his chambers away from this band of misfits. Once they were dealt with he could return to ravishing the younger vampire. These people caused him too much already. Only the idle pondering of the trivial prophecy kept them on friendly terms. The so-called treaty was already on thin ice with this slayer being part of this rescue force. Vlad had a way to deal with that though, he would simply inform the council that unless they wanted the wrath of a large section of the demon and magical world upon them then they would leave Spike in his care. It was not an empty threat he had a great deal of sway that could cripple the struggling council. This new one may have more slayers under it's command but they were all in disarray. Would they truly ever care about one vampire in the greater schemes of things? Rupert Giles would not, the Summers girl may if certain rumors were true.

Nevertheless he would not lose Spike even if he had to bring the whole council to it's knees.

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Illyria was bored with this endless talking in circles that had to do with what the boy referred to as a "truce." She saw it for what it was, a compromise. A surrender of sorts that would not permit them to rightfully sever the heads of their foes. Not even a sacrifice to offer. Pathetic. Thus instead of listening to the "Elder" (a woman that by Illyrias' sight was barely a blink of existence and the third youngest in the room) and the slayer drone on she studied the male vampires. Lust was lingering in the air, a fact the humans were not aware of. This dark half breed that Angel referred to as Dracula had mated with Spike and wished to do so again. Their sort of bonding did not make sense to her. No child could come from their mating which in her eyes defeated the purpose of such a task. Dracula was not the only impossible match that yearned for her pets' flesh as Angels' hunger was burning bright. Stranger still neither seemed to be aware that they were rivals yet.

In her kingdom pets were used however their masters saw fit. To bear children (if it was not viewed as lowering one's self), for amusement and on occasion to send after prey. It was not unheard of that suitors would ask a boon. They would give her gifts, fight in her name, whatever she pleased to have her pets for their pleasure. No one had asked Illyria for permission for exchanging fluids with Spike. Of course her pet had made it sound like that was not how things worked here and Illyria had not taken interest in his sexual activities before. Usually she would stake her claim but Wesley had told her that people and demons alike had to be free to make their own choices. For good or for ill. It was how they learned. Illyria did not care for this rule but would respect it because Wesley had told her it was important to let others learn from their mistakes.

Besides she found it far more entertaining to watch them fight among themselves. They had nothing important to offer her anyway--although Angel had giving her the new Raceway 5000 game. That did give him a nice lead. If Dracula build her a castle it could give him the edge. Whatever the outcome she would be there to bear witness to the next coupling to see why male and male mating was appealing to these vampires. Illyria was sure that her shell--Fred--would be pleased with her logic and curious nature. It was a shame that Wesley was not around to join her as a watcher he must have been fascinated with such an event. Perhaps she could ask the slayer to watch with her if she needed a human point of view to better explain it to her.

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Dragos was tired of waiting for Mihai to break the blocking spell to reclaim their rightful home. The curse was driving them all into madness, making the most gentle of them into wild beasts. Not too long ago a scout had found the remains of one of their sites for the truly damned. Those who were too far gone to ever be cured. They had mourned those deaths even if they had been lost to them long ago. Especially painful was the death of their beloved teacher Liviu. Once the most peaceful quiet man of their lot the man had turned wild in the last few years. Murder had been his first crime but soon that was not enough to vent his all consuming hate. That was when Liviu the sweet man that had once preached of the wisdom of not taking up arms had found pleasure with torturing whoever was unlucky enough to inspire his cruel nature that day. The only saving grace that spared all of them from his fury had been that it was starting to be directed toward their common foe and not at the rest of his clan. Not anymore.

Mihai was eager to cure them, far too naive for his own good. For though Dragos was not nearly as well learned in the art of magic he knew a lost cause when he saw one. That was why he had rounded the worst of the cursed so that they could only prey among themselves and any foe that bared the mark of the Count. That had been a basic spell that Dragos had been barely able to manage. He had not done so lightly and felt the burn of his guilt acutely. Their kind Liviu had died long ago but his body was now hanging from a stake with a damning note from the lord of vampires himself. If only Liviu had gotten him too. Sudden footsteps drew his attention back to the approaching guards. They were not alone.

"We have guests who have traveled a great distance through many perils on a quest." One guard informed him.

"What uses is this information? Why not kill them and be done with it?" Dragos questioned in their native language glaring with open hostility at those outsiders who had slipped past their borders. They had better things to do than greet new comers that would not help them with their plight.

"Simply put--we want to talk to the man in charge." The apparent leader of this small odd team replied talking directly to the guards in their own tongue. "Take us to the one you call Lord Mihai. I think we could be of great use to each other."


	43. Chapter 43

**SCiFiRN:** A little more angst here, sort of. Sadly I haven't been able to get back to this story for awhile. Sorry about that.

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever**: Thasnks.

**Cgflower**: Thanks, I think the girls (Faith and Illyria) give me the most trouble. Dracula will do that to you. ;) He's the only other character in the 'verse that really fully understands Spikes' "fool for love" views but his ego can drive you up the wall. Poor Spike gets tortured by most writers, I might have someone else get tormented later to balance it out. The problem if that Vlad and Angel both are putting Spike in a spot that he's not ready to handle. They both have their flaws Angel has just been more apparent with his so far. Illyria isn't really interested in the emotional aspects of mating and without fully understanding she can't do more than bash heads. And she'll do that for her own pleasure anyway. Sorry for the delay!

**Endiahna**: More it is. :)

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The ordeal of being around the gang listening to boring gits discussing boring politics had prove to much for Spike to handle in his present state. He didn't argue for once when he was sent back to the upper floor though he protested going back to his bedroom for appearances sake. The castle had quiet down at this point with Illyria, Connor and Faith sticking close together like Angel wanted. The brunet vampire didn't trust the Counts' word enough to agree to keep them apart even though he had reluctantly agreed to stay for Faith. She had claimed that the Council was in the process of striking a deal with these people.

They barely tolerated Spike and him with their souls but were willing to work with Dracula for some extra power. The whole affair sickened Angel with the familiar sort of twisted power trips Worfram and Hart had set up. None of the slayers, and watchers seemed to see how being in command was warping their value system. A little favor here, a small lie there and before they knew it they would be more ready to settle for what was best for them not what was right. This was one of the many reasons he was glad that he was not there to witness the sort of woman Buffy was turning into. If Giles was willing to set this up who knew what the slayer would be like now.

Angel trusted Faith to work on that angle since it obviously meant something to her. Granted she wasn't really much of a talker but she could surprise you. As for him--he knew that he shouldn't put it off for too long. He was never good at facing his problems but they were in deep. Faith had asked him to make sure that Spike and him could manage to make peace enough to be able to work together. They were going to need all the help they could get since apparently they were in on yet another prophecy. Slipping out when no one was looking Angel followed the scent he was looking for to the upper levels. He was a little baffled that Dracula hadn't put him--all of them in cells. That was another question he would put aside for another time.

It didn't take long to find Spike lounging on a poofy sofa surrounded by plump pillows that seemed far too big for his slender figure. Face pressed into one such pillow with his lids closed the vampire gave the impression that he was sleeping. A closer inspection revealed lines of concentration as if Spike was trying to pick out a single scent in a crowd. Angelus had made certain that he had been able to do such a feat through harsher means. The livid marks on the slight body reminded Angel a little too much of the old days for his liking. Clearing his throat did the trick to get Spikes' attention. He pulled away from the pillow flashing wide eyed guilt before he realized who it was in front of him. The blank expression that smoothed over his features was pretty helpful for the brunet. Dealing with emotions was hard enough without having Spike pushing his buttons.

"Hey." That was an inspired start.

"'Lo." Spike said cautiously.

"Umm, well we're here." An eyebrow raised at that statement as if to say "obviously." Instead of helping Angel the elder was left to suffer in the awkward silence. Usually it was Spike who hated things to be too quiet struggling to fill the void with words. He on the other hand normally preferred the quiet since it usually meant peace. Or quiet broody sessions. There was no peace to be found now, just little bombshells waiting to go off with the slightest of glances. The body language screamed uncomfortable and hurtful things at him. No wonder small talk wasn't his speciality. "Faith wants to stay a little longer until this prophecy is dealt with. It's a thing about an impasse--an impasse sort of thing--that we can't hurt the other without messing up this Council...impasse...thing. "

Nope, talking **really** wasn't Angels' comfort zone.

"Er...anyway I thought that we--being ALL of us--"he clarified off of Spike curious glance,"could get out of this place until then. What with the whole history that we--you have. With him."

"Wot?!" Startled blue eyes gaped at him behind honey curls. It took Angel a few moments for it to click that Spike said something. There was something very distracting about a Spike without the punk persona.

"You know, the whole rivalry bit." Annoyance colored his words. Mainly that he had to explain himself more than he should have to. Was Spike trying to make this harder for him?

"Oh. That. Right." Of course Angel hadn't meant them. Hadn't meant anything about the "with" either. Good. Because there was no "we."

"Reckon that might not work on account that I've been forbidden to leave his good graces." The half amused half bitter smile passes over the chiseled face before he shook it off to discretely glance up through his eyelashes to see if the big lug caught anything. The signs of puzzlement Angel has quickly fades to a dumbstruck awe. To what Spike has no clue but his voice sounds far away when he braves on the stunted conversation.

"Think there'll be trouble?" His throat is dryer than it has been since his three month period under the ocean without a lick of blood. What the hell is going on?

"More than likely. Man likes to make grand gestures. Sort like that takes offense when his sworn enemy is taken from him." Tormented as a servant, abused and finally confused about Vlads' attention Spike didn't much like the idea of running away. Even if he did Vlad was sure to follow him. A thrill ran through him at the thought quickly followed by repulsion.

"We'll figure something out, Spike." Without thought about personal space Angel sat next to his occasion rival. The emotions were coming through without the usual bravado the smaller vampire often used to cover up his insecurities. This must have been bad. Of course he had never been much of a comforting person, he had of course known a few. Without thinking it through Angels' hand covered Spikes'. The two men instantly leapt apart to gape openly at the other. Neither had been immune to the sparks the simple touch had ignited.

Feeling very self conscious about the two rapidly darkening chocolate orbs staring at him Spike snapped. "Wot are you looking at?!"

"Y--you're not blond!" Angel stammered automatically.

"Just noticed that did you?"

"Of course not, moron! I...I haven't seen it like this for years--over a hundred at least. "His voice softened at the little pout Spike gave.

"Look like a right pounce, I do." The former blond grumbled.

"I think it looks good on you." Angel stated almost reaching out for a ringlet only to stop himself a second before he could.

"Looking like a pounce doesn't look good on anybody--'cept you, peaches." A smirk taunted him but Angel rolled his eyes not willing to take the bait.

"Gee, thanks." For the next few minutes they sat in silence unable to think of another safe conversation to have until Spike had to ask:

"Where do we go from here?" There was no answer to the true meaning behind that question that neither wanted to admit to. The cliche answer was given.

"We keep fighting and don't give up."

Wanting to make a quip about Angels' lack of originality Spike turned his head to see the brunet had inched closer. Frozen at the sight all Spike could do was watch as Angels' hand came in contact with his flesh. The feather soft touch brushed down his throat making him wish he could suppress the his shudder. This was wrong, they weren't lovers in fact they hated each other. Had to since it was clear that Angel never gave a damn about him.

Traveling to rescue him said otherwise. Then again maybe he was cashing in his reward from Spikes' body. This wasn't what he wanted, was it? Carefully Angel pulled at the collar right when Spike was about to refuse him. There was a gasp and it took him a bit to come to the conclusion that it hadn't been him. Angels' was staring at his neck with shock. The pieces slowly fell into place too slowly to do any damn good. The bite mark Vlad had left on him had not healed over yet. Bugger.

Angel couldn't stop himself from looking at the red marks clearly made by a vampires' fangs. A male vampires' fangs. There had to be an explanation Angel simply hadn't thought of one yet. Not all vampires were the Anne Rice sort that drank off each other. The older ones from the Masters' inner circle would do it during rituals and other outdated customs. A few did it during sex but that was ridiculous. Spike didn't have male lovers, even if he did they certainly weren't other vampires and more over he hated being bitten. A sicken thought sluggishly came to Angel that the only male vampires around would have to have been the ones at the campsite he was tortured in or Dracula himself. Not allowing himself to consider what happened in terms of Spike getting the mark he asked far more calmly than he felt: "Spike. How did you get this?"

Spike attempted to say something but words failed him. All he could do was stare helplessly not knowing why the hell he wasn't telling Angel to piss off. His silence and troubled expression however was enough for Angel who recoiled. "Shit."

Dracula must have marked Spike off as his property which doubtlessly embarrassed the younger vampire to no end. Angel could relate, the Master had once bit him to prove to his court that no one in the "family" wasn't his. As soon as his hands were free Angelus had taken a cloth drenched in holy water to burn the mark off himself. Some how he didn't think Spike would feel like taking those measures at the moment. "It'll heal over soon enough," he offered, "we'll be out of here before he tries to do it again."

"...Right." Spike would kill--literally kill for--a fag right then. Smoking would be a needed distraction and nerve calmer. He pulled at the tassels of the pillow playing with them like he had never seen such a fascinating thing in his life.

"Umm, Connor's really glad you're alright. He missed you." Telling Spike how worried he personally had been would leave him too open to ridicule. If not to something else equally unwelcome.

"I know, kid always let's me know how he feels. Refreshing, that is." Digging in his fingers Spike knows that with anymore pressure he'll puncture the pillow. Its' not quite as big as the great poofs' head...

"Yeah, he's a great kid." The brunet quickly agreeing not letting himself try to discover the meaning behind Spikes' words. He always ended up getting it wrong anyway.

'Wonder where he got that from' is at the tip of his tongue but it's beyond pointless at this stage to get through that thick skull. Stupid to think he ever could. Unless you're a strong woman with a nice set of tits you never rank all that high on Angels' priority list. No, Connor was the only guy that the dark vampire cared for. Not the 'moron' he never stopped using even after the souls.

With Peter there was a understanding of how a child looked for a father figure. That would have been nice to have once upon a time. Wife and kiddies but he wasn't William, not in the ways that Angel said meant a damn thing. He wasn't an innocent anymore, wasn't a good man, wasn't someone that could be loved. Spike wasn't certain if he ever had that last trait. If he had been a father as a human he doubts his family would have ever respected him. These days he gets scraps of it when he does a deed that merits a traditional pat on the head. Like a puppy he races to the small affections and wonders why he's being neglected again.

Who could really respect anyone like that?


	44. Chapter 44

**Cgflower**: Spike can make us feel horrible for him. I think I might have taken him a little too far last chapter but then again this is the first time they really faced each other without meaning to be cruel. There's a lot of hurt and confusion there. I think the Fang Gang were the most accepting of him though they were more than a little stuck on their own problems when he came around. Here Connor and Illyria at least are willing to show they care...in their own ways. ;) Angels' trying but he's still a good distance away from succeeding.

**SCiFiRN**: Angel and Spike will drive you up the wall like that. Spike has gradually been doubting his bonds with others since William Restored. It's sort of been built up since Sunnydale where he has to wonder that if he wasn't trusted by Buffy or in this case Angel would anybody really want him around? And Angel, well he has social and emotional issues. Thanks for commenting!

**llMelpomene**: I try but real life likes to tell me no for awhile. Umm, I guess I could say that Spike does have some angst here. I won't say more but I hope you like it anyway. You'll hear his thoughts on matters later, for now let's just say he only has one thing on his mind.

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever**: Thanks.

**Endiahna**: Thank you. Here's another chapter hopefully you're like it.

** faisa:** One of the greatest tragic things about Angel was that we didn't get more Wes/Faith moments. Sadly neither Illyria or Faith are in this chapter though they are mentioned. One of the fun parts about their talk was the complete misunderstanding. Angel was going to mess up there regardless. Spike on the other hand was far too distracted to see past his own problems to see what was really there. I'm glad that came across. Thanks for de-lurking!

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"Charming place. Do you have a danker den for us to speak in or will this suit the rodents needs?" Roger commented inspecting his dust covered index finger with obvious distaste.

"Now that's not nice, I'd say watchers rank a little higher than rodents." Leaning forward the young man propped his leg onto the crate he was presently using as a table. "Like snakes."

"Utterly charming." Taking out a handkerchief out of his pocket Roger wiped his finger clean only stopping to frown at the bothersome flecks of blood that had previously stained the cloth. He really had to be more careful in the future about staining the linen. "Well nevermind your lack of hosting skills we have much more pressing matters to discuss, boy."

"Name's Mihai," their host corrected,"and you came to me."

"Yes, yes, the point is that you have the vampire Angelus and his demon brethren here. We are here to bring them back under our custody."

Mihai raised an eyebrow at the statement. "I thought one of them was a slayer--"

"She's not one of us!" Carey interrupted earning her a slightly impatient look from Roger but she was too pissed to take much notice of it. For the first time Mihai smiled making her feel more irritable about the exchange. Of course he'd find it funny.

"Sorry." He addressed her personally further confusing Carey. Most took no notice of the slayers unless they were in their personal space. Roger was in command, obviously, yet the way the mage spoke to her...

Clearing his throat Mihai turned back to the older man. "In any case their not here anymore. They decided to take matters into their own hands call on the supposed lord of all vampires up close and personal."

"You let them go?" Too tired to give the question more than a flat delivery Carey slumped back into the bean bag seat she had been offered. Unprofessional or not there was only so much bullshit she could stand to take in one day. Let the others pose and posture. Roger won't notice it presently, she could already see him taking in every detail to decide if this magic user was too much of a threat to go up against.

"Naturally. I'm willing to do a lot of things to reclaim my birthright, going against the odds with Angel?" Mihai chuckled deeply, "That's too rich of a risk even for me."

"If one mere vampire is oh so troubling for you--"

Raising an eyebrow Mihai managed to do a feat few could achieve by silencing the watcher. His eyes were deadly serious in a manner that made even a harden warrior like Carey shiver. "There's nothing mere about that vampire, man. Suppose you watchers are a bit outta the loop. Maybe the others don't like to share. Well let me fill in the blanks for you. Angel is sitting smack down in the middle of a power struggle between two ancient powers. The literal battle between good and evil. Both sides want him as their champion and don't take kindly to anyone screwing with their plans. "

Straightening Mihai offered a friendly smile. "Anybody need to take a leak? The bathroom is to the right past compost heap."

Taking in Rogers' distracted state Michelle gave a nod of thanks before silently slipping away.

"You're said to be potentially the most powerful magik user on the planet yet you fear the workings of forces you can't see." Roger gave a disgusted shake of his head. "In my days we fought such forces with much less and prevailed."

"You thought you did." The younger man stated lazily tracing random pattens in the air that only he seemed able to see. "Their bigger than that. Evil doesn't die simply because you cut off a toenail. You think that just because you got more players on the field now that means that you're going to win? Doesn't work like that. You may have surprised them a little but they haven't shown all their cards yet. When the nastiest fight of all time gets started you might not even be around. But Angel? Oh he'll be there and decide who wins the day."

"You're willing to risk him siding with the forces of darkness? You're far more reckless than I thought, boy."

"Nah. Reckless would be trying to risk an all out war within the demon world because of revenge."

"Says the guy going against Dracula." Carey pointed out.

Again he smiled at her seeming more amused than angry at the comparison. "Touche. But in all fairness, to myself of course, I have the full support of my brethren. Can you say the same about the rest of the Council?"

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"We're sharing a room?"

"Yeah, sure. Just like we used to." Angel answered cheerfully placing his jacket carefully in the closet. Wrinkles never looked good on leather.

Connor grimaced behind his fathers' back not wanting to burst the rare enthusiasm. Technically the idea of pairing up was sound, as a young man it wasn't very ideal. Not when he was paired up with his father. "You mean when I was a baby? Some things have changed since then Angel."

"I know that. It's not like I'm going to try to sing you asleep again." Angel paused to reconsider his words. "Unless you want me to--if you have trouble sleeping I mean."

"Umm, yeah I think I'll be alright...as long as you don't sing." Connor muttered the last part under his breath.

"Hey! Super hearing here!"

Laughing at his dad's indignation Connor slumped back onto the bed. A startling thought suddenly occurred to him. "Uh, we're not going to share the same bed are we...?"

Angel blinked, staring at the bed a second before his jaw dropped. "Oh. I, umm, hadn't thought about that. I mean we used to snuggl--er--sleep to--" The vampire cringed on how wrong the explanation was coming out. The transition from having a baby son to the young man still was hard to make some times. "--when you were a..." He finished lamely. "This is weird, right?"

"Yeah." His son agreed. "Not that we're the norm most days."

"Sorry about that." Angel mumbled into his chest not wanting to see the disappoint he had surely earned.

"Nah, it's cool. The powers are sort of sweet. I can kick demon ass, rule on the court, and not break a sweat. Though the smell thing does kinda suck. A lot." Father and son shared a nod of agreement not needing to explain further. "So...do you think Faith and Illyria are going to share a bed?'

Like having to smell the hint of arousal that image had given the youth. His boy liked tough older women it shouldn't have been a shock that he would like girl on girl action. "I don't know if Illyria actually sleeps. If she did I'm sure she would kick Faith out of the room to claim it and anything in the country as her property."

Connor made a non-committal noise brushing his bangs out of his face. They were getting long again which Angel sort of liked. It reminded him of his days of a young man and a little bit of Darla during her last night as a human. Fearless in the midst of uncertainty. He wished he could say the same for himself. These days he was afraid of death to the point he spent extra hours brooding before sleep would claim him. Not for himself but for his friends. Every life he touched had been tainted by his presence. But Connor--Connor was his great hope for something better. Angel would die happy with the knowledge that he left behind such a kid.

"Do all vampires fool around?"

"What?!" The question had been out of the blue leaving Angel dazed from his own musings.

"Dracula has all these 'brides' so I was wondering if it was just him. Do vampires ever 'settle down'?"

Angel shrugged. "Depends. There are some that stick with lovers until they dust. A lot have more open relationships and many get bored after centuries with the same lover."

"Holtz made it sound like you and Darla had a more open relationship." The words were gentle yet Angel still felt the string accompanied with that mans' name. He didn't belong in this conversation anymore than he should have fit into his kids' life. "What kind do you think Spike is?"

"Spike?" Another name he hadn't expected to hear in this context. Backtracking through what was said he tried to recall if the other vampire had been mentioned before. He hadn't. Settling the rush of panic that had settled in his chest Angel knew he was overreacting. They were at the castle to save Spike who was the only other vampire Connor had any contact with and had known both his parents. That was a natural connection to make. "He was with Drusilla for over a hundred years."

"They were loyal to each other that long?" Looking suitably impressed Connor smiled fondly, a constant reminder that the pain in his ass was an important part of the boys' life.

"He was loyal to her." The champion murmured not wanting to get into the reasons for that. "But he not much for that these days." He added louder needing to quickly dismiss whatever undeserved affection Spike was stealing. Hating the fact that it actually had been earned far more than anything he had received.

"I don't know about that. I think he just wants to have someone who's crazy about him too."

Angel muttered about Drusilla but Connor resolutely ignored him.

"Take this Muffy girl--"

"Buffy." Angel corrected before he realized that no he really didn't want to discuss her with his son either.

"Whatever, it's still a weird name. Anyway, he loved her and from how he talked about her I think he would have gone back to her if he thought it would work out. Some of the advise he give me...he'll deny it, but I get the impression he's a romantic. I never saw anyone who talks so--so--"Connor chewed his lip thoughtfully seeking out the elusive word that Angel knew he was searching for. There was really no other word to describe how Spike spoke than--,"--poetically about love."

"Spikes' not--look if you want to talk about this, and god knows why, then talk to him."

"I just wanted to know what to expect. Not like I have any others like me to talk to, vampires are the closest thing to whatever I am." The boy reasoned.

"Sorry, I just don't have any answers about Spikes' affairs."

----------------------------------------------------

Spike gasped trying not to shiver at the chill of the night air wafting across his skin. Gritting his teeth he tried to shift away to escape the torture but he was held fast. He didn't want the tremble starting at the base of his spine to become apparent. That was a weakness he could ill afford to show. No matter how many people tired to beat it into him to prove otherwise he was not weak. No matter the title, William the Bloody, Spike, slayer of slayers, champion of the slayer, he had overcome great odds. Mostly with nothing but his own willpower calling him on when no one believed in him. Succumbing to this latest torment was not an option.

Taking a deep breath Spike attempted to steady himself setting his mouth into a determined line. Sweat gathered on his brow at his efforts and he wanted to sob in frustration. This wasn't fair at all. Muscles coiled tightly seeking an escape when there was none to be had. Against his will a small pained whine escaped his throat. Victorious at the sign of Spikes' crumbling defenses the pressure was increased to an agonizing degree. Not able to stand the onslaught any longer Spike finally succumbed and screamed. Sound warped while sight briefly escaped him.

Slowly the blurry images started to form recognizable shapes. Smoldering dark eyes stared up at him through raven locks curtaining the pale face that lapped greedily underneath. Spike didn't try to suppress the full body shudder at the sight. Chuckling at the expression Vlad planted a kiss on his lovers' inner thigh.

"You were amazing my stallion. A beauty to behold."

Not quite recovered from the ordeal Spike could only gasp in response. His body was on fire, pleasantly so. Skin slick with sweat he can felt it pooling on his flesh doing little to cool the fire. Everywhere Vlad was touching him burns. And for the first time since Sunnydale Spike wants to welcome the fire, to let the delicious licks of flame warm him even though he'll likely burn out again. Never could stop playing with fire not when the light entranced him so. He just didn't think that once he found his own spark again that from the darkness he would be drawn back like a moth.

Being called amazing, he's pretty sure no one's ever called him that. It's silly to feel so pleased with such a cliche. Still praise is a rare reward for him, thoughts about it's sincerity aren't needed then. No one has basked with him in the moment. Having someone be there with HIM that's odd. Spike doesn't know what to do with that extra attention. Is he suppose to be charming? All he feels like doing is lie there catching his unneeded breath. Being this exposed and not being alone in the aftermath is truly scary. Being disregarded sort of feels like second nature. Having fingers caress his body like it was a piece of art, beautiful and precious isn't something Spikes' used to working around.

These feelings do not go by unobserved by his bedmate. "Why does it upset you so when I speak the truth?" The sigh is plaintive revealing a little too much of the lords' inner thinking for Spikes' liking. "Do you truly detest me so?"

The question comes out as nothing more than a whisper while the hurt rings out like a gun shot. Being reminded of what occurred with Buffy isn't what he wants. Hell if Spike actually knows what he wants right then but it sure as hell isn't putting someone else in that situation. For once it doesn't matter who the man lying next to him is nor the history they shared. Spike knows damn well what it's like to be used. Ignoring the depths of Vlads' feelings might not be an option anymore. That was a frightening thought.

"I don't know how I feel 'bout you. Don't rightly know how I feel 'bout anything right now." The confession is both freeing and damning. With no banter to hide behind the honesty makes him feel too fragile. Too William.

"Perhaps I pushed too hard. For that I must beg your forgiveness. I can not however regret my passion, not when it has lead me here." Gradually Vlad had drawn closer until he hovered just over Spike, his long mane blanketing the smaller vampires' shoulders while his lips were out of range. Balancing effortlessly on one arm he brought his other hand through the disarray of curls he adored. "My beautiful William."

His fingers trailed down the left side of Spikes' face over perfectly a sculpted cheekbone. Eyes alight with wonder like he had never seen such a marvel. Warmth spread through Spike as he almost shyly moved into the touch. Vlads' thumb traced the shape of his lips as if he committing it to memory. Much to both of their surprise the mouth opened to suck the digit exciting a hiss.

"I want you." The rough whisper comes from Vlad but for a moment Spike feared he had said it. "No, more than that I need you."

Seemed the old boy wasn't alone in that sentiment. Not long ago Spike thought he was drained completely, now he felt himself aching for more. Somewhere this night had become more than the need take comfort. He liked feeling desired and damn it if the bloke hadn't been right on the money about showing him new worlds. Spike had always been an eager learner after all.

Sharp teeth nibbled where the mark of Draculas' bite lie. The sensation almost made Spike miss the subtle shift that had the darker vampire settled between his parted thighs. Clinging to each other desperately he nearly misses, "Will you let me have you?"

The meaning is clear as a bell with the evidence digging into his leg awaiting the answer. Yes is at the tip of his tongue before the shock of what such an admission would mean passes to his brain. He hasn't bottomed for any man save Angel. Doing so now (no matter how much he wants to) would mean that he's trusting Vlad. That would be more than a simple shag. it would have to mean something.

"I...I can't. " He tries to look away not wanting to see what emotion lies to wait on the Counts' face. Escape is denied to him. There is no disapproving look, no anger, not even a hissy fit about not getting his way.

"I will find a way to win you. All of you." Spike gets the impression that he's talking about more than getting to top. Face nothing save sheer determination all he can think is that Vlad looks frustratingly sexy like that. Not that he'd admit that out loud.

Kissing that pout Vlad sets the pace getting the younger vampire back to the brink again. "You will be mine, Spike."

_Stupid wanker was annoyingly arrogant_.

"Then I'll show you heights of pleasures you never thought possible."

And damn it if he didn't love it a little.


	45. Chapter 45

**llMelpomene**: Yes I've been meaning to use Peter for awhile but he didn't fit in before. I found something to keep him busy in this chapter. ;)

**Buffyplusangelequal4ever**: Thanks.

**SCiFiRN**: Angels' actually a very good father but he'll never believe it. One of the reasons I adore writing Spacula or just Dracula is how capable a seducer he is. He has what Spike wants and is slowly bringing him to the point where he very well could beg for it if he's not careful. I wouldn't say that Spikes' resistance has to do with him belonging to Angel. That sort of implies that he's just hurting because of him and that he was in love. It never got that far, not in the Buffy and Drusilla love terms. Spikes' hurting because he's been disregarded so long and trusting another man, one that used to be his enemy will be that much worse if he gets screwed over again. Though I'm sure other characters might think that Spike was hesitating for the reason you mentioned.

**Endiahna**: Sometimes Angel is clueless other times he's more crafty than people give him credit for.

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"I wish Wes was here. He'd know how to handle this."

Diplomatic matters were not Faiths' forte. Give her a pointy stick in a room full of fangy demons and she was good to go. She knew the basic math that equaled trouble for them. Teaming up with the king of the undead against this Mihai guy might save the Council, it could put them up against a new big bad if it went sour. Of course Dracula didn't want to surrender Spike without a fight. That was a no-go with their current rescue mission. If they teamed up with Mihai to save Spike the treaty would go down the toilet. What was the right choice to make? Normally she could rely on her vampire sponsor for a little guidance but Angel had his head too far up his ass to see straight.

All Faith knew was that she was supposed to stop something bad from going down. How would Wes do it? Research followed by british snark with a good servicing of underhandedness. He would have gotten both sides of the story before he proceeded. Would he of sacrificed Spike for the mission? That was the watcher rule. Nothing got in the way of the job not even lives.

The current Council wasn't that much better at walking the line than the last in her opinion. Most of these arrangements with demons weren't about saving the day but politics. Getting more power, a footing into places they couldn't follow. There was only so much Will could do with magic. Since Spike left their connection to the demon world wasn't that great. Finding reliable badass agents less so.

The treaty was the only thing that Faith could get behind. It wasn't like B or anyone else had made it a point to stick their noses into Draculas' business before. As horrible as it was their thoughts never strayed to the out of the way location where a vampire was in command and chopping down on peasants for centuries. Unless there was a hellmouth or a visible big bad they never bothered to look into the nitty gritty. Now they would at least have an ally that could add something valuable to the mix. With Dracula they would at least know what to expect.

Blue girl hadn't added anything to Faiths' very loud one way conversation once she bored of it. Spike could have added his two cents in if they had been allowed to see him. "Think we'll see Spike soon? That was the reason we came over here in the first place. Not going to let them hurt your doggy are ya blue?"

She sort of liked the idea of Spike being Illyrias' pet. That was a role that felt perfect for him, guy even had the right name for it. The boys claimed it wasn't the kinky sort of deal which made it all the more cute. If they all made it through this Faith was going to give her a little collar for him just for shits and giggles.

"None will dare to harm Spike." The demon revealed haughtily.

Illyria was perched rigidly on the edge of trunk at the foot of the bed trying to mirror the pose she had seen her companion take earlier. Her back was too straight and her legs were to stiff to splay at the same ease. Faith was a little amused by her alien nature. These quirks had endeared the god-king to her more than she had thought possible. This must have been why Spike had become so fond of her though the creature had taken the life of a dear friend. She was almost as much as a victim herself. Too human to rule like she once had and too much of a demon to fit in properly. A misfit like them.

"Let me guess, their too afraid of your wrath, right? Too bad. I'd like to see you put your boot up their asses." The girl would likely do it, literally, which Faith would have loved to have witnessed.

"That is correct." Illyria looked like she was pouting for a brief second at the thought of not being able to inflict damage herself. Sounded like Faiths' kind of girl. Maybe they could go slaying together later. Was nice having someone who was honest about how good a fight felt. "My displeasure is not what the king wishes if he wants to continue mating with my pet."

For a full minute the slayer did not catch her meaning at all. Much like Spike nicknames were given to all of them, her being slayer, Connor usually being some variation of spawn. Angel had been called the fallen king. Made sense that Illyria would know about the vamps screwing. It didn't however, fit within the context of their conversation. What did fit made her head spin. Damn she usually picked up on this stuff.

"Spike and Dracula? No shit?" Spike had bonked two male vampire hotties? _Boy had gotten his freak on,_ Faith was impressed. Well, impressed and horny.

"No shit?" The god-king repeated testing out the phrase with confusion coloring her unnaturally blue eyes.

"Yeah, I mean are you for real? That's insane. Boys' got a better game than he gets credit for."

The demon in Freds' body blinked. "Yes I am "for real". The vampires have exchanged fluids. That is why the one called Dracula does not wish to part with Spike. He has grown attached."

"I'll say."

"The bond makes him weak. Why would any wish to be inflected with such a plague?" The question was directed over Faiths' head. Turning on the spot she felt the familiar tingle she got when in the presence of vampires. The sensation she had been ignoring since they parked in the capital for vamps. No one was there but the door had been cracked open. Faith had a really bad feeling about this.

------------------------------

Peter wouldn't stop pestering Spike all morning. The kid knew something had changed with the relationship between his friend and the master of the manor. Feeling well enough he had been sent as a messenger between the two much to Elsas' displeasure. In his room Spike already had a growing collection of flowers sent from days before. Pinks roses of grace, red poppies of pleasure, oak leaves simplifying strength. The lime blossoms made Spike feel hot, equally embarrassed and pleased by the reminder. Simple white clovers spoke of a promise that could only be the vow to win him.

Each delivery Peter gave had a new message for him alone to understand. None of them had any meaning of love for which he was grateful. Partly. Vlad had been careful to never say nor imply that this was more than what it was. Spike feared seeing such a decoration just as much as he felt saddened when it wasn't given. No one had said those words to him. Not with any real meaning to it.

Leaning against the vampire more than a human should Peter happily scribbled down his thoughts to converse with his friend. Spike answered the inquires the best he could given the complex nature of his supposed courtship with Dracula. And given the boys' innocence he carefully removed the more adult tidbits. Running his fingers through Peters' dark bangs he wondered if he could be what the boy wanted him to be. A sort of father figure. He had liked being family to Connor but he had never been the man of the house. Darla had been too stubborn to allow him to be in the days after Angelus had left them.

Having a family of his own, that had been a great ambition of his life following him into his death. Kiddies of his own, that wasn't possible for his kind. Not unless you had the powers that screw you over pulling the strings. A jab to his side drew Spikes' attention back to the little mite who brought his notepad to his attention.

"_Will you stay_?" It read.

Gulping Spike readied himself for the standard spiel he had been giving the lad. Peter saw it coming pulling himself out of the embrace. Skimming through the papers he found the page he wanted shoving it under the vampires' nose.

"_Spike,_

__

You have been well aware of my regard for you. If you would let me have a sign of yours, a token to give me insight of your heart.

Yours,

_Vlad_"

Did this mean that he wanted Spike to confess a deeper affection before he did? Uncertainty made him begin to doubt whether this was an elaborate ruse to enact some revenge on him after all these years. Then again what was to be gained if Vlad was rejected? He had signed it "yours", did that mean more than a simple way to end the letter?

"Alright small fry, I get it. Let's decide wot t' say t' the big man."

Smiling brightly Peter extended his hand leading Spike to the garden as soon as the hands clasped. The green houses were an impressive assortment of plants from all over the globe. Finding a suitable reply shouldn't have been hard in theory. The problem was that Spike didn't know what he wanted to say. Going the visually pleasing he found himself in the carnation section. There were many types of flowers that he could have played safe with. What ever he chose he knew would be a factor in Draculas' next move.

Carnations had a good amount of choices though pink was instantly ruled out for the female connotation it presented. Three kinds were rejection, yellow was disappointment, striped was a refusal and the cruelest was white, disdain. Purple was a bit of a cheat, not truly saying what he felt. Unpredictability wasn't a virtue in these things. Taking his time searching for the right one Spike found the one he wanted plucking it off and handing it to Peter before he can change his mind. Slipping it into a small thin box the lad seemed to have gotten the memo not to let there be a change in heart rushing off with his small delivery.

-------------------

"Are you alright?"

Grunting in reply Angel glared at the butler offering the goblets full of human blood. Connor didn't understand why his dad was in such a sour mood. They found Spike, that should have been good news. All the brunet vampire had done since they had all gathered downstairs was to stare at Spike. He wasn't the only one who noticed this.

"Wot?!"

"You've been drinking human blood Spike, fall off the wagon already?"

"Been injured you stupid git, needed it to heal didn't I?" Keen dislike shone through Spikes' expressive face. They hadn't been together more than a day and already the two were at each others' throats again.

"When were you thinking of easing off of it? The craving is going to drive you crazy if you don't have a cut off point before you go cold turkey again. So excuse me if I don't like the idea of you having uncontrollable bloodlust around...," _my son_ wasn't said instead Angel said "...humans."

Scowling Spike slumped back in his seat muttering, "We both know which one of us is more in control, don't we mate?"

Angel laughed coldly. "Yeah you're the one that comes to mind when people think of control. You're the most reckless person I've ever known. Patience is a foreign concept to you."

"At this I'll always beat you, prat!"

"Fine, name me one time when you could control the urge. One time." He challenged.

"With Cordelia." Spike stated obviously pleased with himself. "Taste tested her to see if she was evil. Didn't have a drop afterwards. Take that you pansy little wanker!" Triumphed he gave the other man a two fingered salute.

"Hey, I'm not little! And that doesn't count!" At the raised eyebrow Angel went on jabbing his finger into his annoying counterparts chest. "She was an astra projection!"

"She 'ad blood, it bloody well counts!" About to argue the point further Spike halted at the appearance of their host with a slight nod he beckoned the youngest vampire towards him. Swallowing hard he followed ignoring the heat of Angels' gaze all the while.

"What was THAT about?" Connor had to ask utterly bewildered at the change from kind of shy acceptance to this frosty reception.

"Same thing it always is. His recklessness."

On the balcony Vlad stood holding the box Peter had placed the flower in. The man didn't seem overly thrilled with what Spikes' feelings were. "I have received the token you sent."

Knowing he couldn't be seen Spike nodded anyway. "Yeah, can see that."

"I must admit that this did not occur to me. Not at this stage." Lip curling in half snarl half smile Vlad took pity on the other man opening the box distractedly. Inside lie the striped carnation.

"I--"

"When I saw your refusal I must confess that I took it poorly." Wind blew his dark hair obscuring his face from the younger mans' view. "Halfway through cursing your very existence and calling your mother quite a few colorful and indeed creative remarks--"

"OI!" Spike interjected loudly.

"I found a curious detail. Caught on this tidbit I called Peter back to me. Doing my bidding the boy returned with what he assured me was the truth of the matter." Holding the stem between thumb and forefinger Vlad brought the petals to Spikes' cheek. "I naturally have my own thoughts on the matter. I desire for this to be confirmed so if you will, tell me..."

From his cloak Vlad drew forth another carnation of a scarlet hue. "...which one of these did you tell Peter to send back?" Was this a test? A scheme to give Spike another chance to answer, to back out of the hasty reply he had made?

"Wot's this 'bout? Why--?"

"Tell me."

Paying no mind to the demand Spike felt quite annoyed with these foolish mind trips. Didn't matter if they were bints or bloke always the same. "You know bloody well which it was you over inflated prissy son of a bitch!"

"Answer me at once! I command it!" Giving up on pretense the Count advanced bringing the two up close and personal. The smaller of the pair simply refused to retreat.

"Command it?! Stop playing these ruddy mind games! You know damn well that I sent the red one you selfish prick!" No sooner did he get the words out than his lips were sealed with a frenzied kiss. Not one too be silenced he still managed to make his feelings known between nibbles. "Stupid. Git."

"Forgive me. I knew but this deception has sent me into such a furious state where reason can not exist. Not when it concerns you. I am...overwhelmed with your answer." Carelessly disregarding the striped flower the dark vampire had lost none of his fierceness. "Yet, you have been with another man, another vampire before, have you not?"

Voice chipped matching his icy glare Spike could barely retreat when his biceps were seized into a painful grip. "With Angel."

A dizziness spiraled in Spikes' stomach accompanying the sense of deja vu he was experiencing. The dripping contempt was nothing new the path the scorn was being pointed towards was. No one was supposed to know about them. Spike had been a mistake that Angel had thought best forgotten. Yet here they were on that topic like it made any connection to the present.

"You wonder how I know this, yes? He was kind enough to leave his scent when he switched your gift to substitute it with his own response. One must wonder what sort of man would do such a thing?"

Yes, one did have to wonder.


	46. Chapter 46

**Spikemyangel**: Yep that's Angel on a good day. It's alright, it's just good to see you're still reading.

**Buffyplusangelequal4eve**r: Thanks.

**llMelpomene**: Faith's into her kink so of course it occurs to her. ;) But seriously I liked having a chance to have Illyria and Faith talk together especially since they never met on the show. More infor on the flower in this chapter though I still haven't said just what Spikes' choice means but you do get the general idea. Even when their getting along they fight but Angel has been acting like this for a reason.

**Endiahna**: That's a part of Angels' character I've always found it fascinating. He can be so dense sometimes while others he has Spikes' type of insight. I think it really has to do with focus which he always had as Angelus but not always as Angel. Vlad has limited control at best at the moment, that doesn't mean that he'll allow anyone to move in. He'll just need to be equally as crafty.

**SCiFiRN**: They might all be heading for a beat down so we'll see how that goes. ;)

**Stoic-Genius:** I'm a huge Spangel fan myself but I'm always pleased to find others who enjoy Spacula. He's actually quite a natural romantic at heart which makes his relationship with Spike a lot of fun to work with. That may depend on what choice Spike makes in the end, as much as he cares for Peter the boy has a family of his own and Spike has to decide what's best for himself. You'll see more of them together in future chapters.

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"How long have you been with Angel?"

Losing his composure was bad enough, but this? He felt the jealous eating away at him and was sure that it would take his sanity if he let it. Spike was his, it didn't matter if he didn't admit it yet Dracula had committed himself to securing him as his lover. This "Angel" had suddenly brought everything into a new light. Details were harder to obscure now that new layers of understanding had been added.

This was not Spike protesting sharing his body with another man. There were no lingering human fears of losing his masculinity. That apparently had been given freely to another man years before. He loathed that he would not be the one to introduce the younger vampire into the pleasures to be shared between two men. Pity perhaps as he had not always harbored such tender emotions towards his rival, their feud had kept that from being possible. It was only natural that Angelus would show his charge these delights. That did not mean that Dracula had to like it.

This information grieved him inflicting unintended injury upon him. Why was he denied when Angelus had obviously not been?

"Have you lost your mind? 'M not 'with' that wanker!" The lights of fury may leave Spike, his passion never does. "Never have been, not where it counted." The champion informed soberly with hand to heart and more pain than he realized in his soft voice.

"He hurt you." It's a statement that comes out rather flatly. Not because he doesn't care, seeing the full picture simply leaves him confused for a moment. Pieces began to fit a little too perfectly. Spike of course will not confirm such a perceived weakness.

"Like he could! Kicked his ass for a nice cuppa of torment I did! Might have been flat but I still won! Nevermind the sodding puppet fight..."

He's babbling nonsense with false bravado again. Trying to hide the ache that never quite goes away. Drusilla, the Summers girl, Dracula has heard the tale of how they mistreated Spikes' love hating them the more for it now that he sees their work with his own eyes. Angelus, that is harder to see. He's never seen either man even slightly affectionate to the other where else he at least had seen the files on the Buffy Summers affair. Victor had done surprisingly well at providing such information. Still Dracula was vexed to discover another aspect he had not known about Spike.

----------------------------------

Their talking, arguing, whatever you want to call it. He can see it from where he is, not really paying attention to what their saying. Might not be such a strain to try but he's more interested in their body language. Spike, he's always been so expressive. Under normal circumstances the former bottled blond practically be broadcasting his business. Lying about what was in his heart or who he was bedding had never been talents the other souled vampire could master. Hell, Angel had been half impressed that the fling with Buffy had gone unnoticed by the rest of the Scoobies for so long. Then remembering that this was during a time Giles hadn't been present and Willow had been on her magic kick it made more sense. Plus Xander had never been the sharpest stake in the bunch.

Funny that Angel hadn't noticed this lastest affair until he had stumbled on Faith and Illyria of all people discussing it. Both women were very perceptive where sex was concerned especially Illyria. The god-king had no reason to lie and every interest in the workings of her lessers. Judging for himself he worked around the awkwardness that clung to Spike and him. That had blocked his view, had to because there were tell tale signs. He was good at catching such clues when he was looking for them. Used to be his trade when the little things could cause so much intrigue for Darla and him back in the day. The coy looks, bashful achingly familiar smiles that Spike usually was too busy fronting to expose. The poet had made an appearance seeking out a new muse.

Angel couldn't have been more shocked if Xander Harris had arrived confessing undying love to him and begging his forgiveness for years of mistreatment. This was not what he had come to expect from Spike. The Count was arrogant, the type of posturing controlling old relic they both had detested from their soulless days. God, Angel couldn't sum up how much he hated those types. Dracula had previously been a minor dislike due to their lack of contact but he could see many of the same traits. Most bothering was the affect he was having on his not so rebellious prisoner.

He had noted that Spike had been drinking human blood. With all the other vampires about and his own nervousness around Spike he had not seen it beforehand. Torn from his punk persona into a vulnerable image of Draculas' choosing. Fear gripped him like never before. Weird that of all the time for Angel to see that he had someone who--the only one really--that walked the same path as him. They shared the same experiences, suffered with their souls and now was Spikes' time of need. He was tumbling down a dark road much like Angel had done after Darlas' return.

This was a trap crafted so precisely that innerly Angelus crowed his approval. Dracula was a sicker bastard than Angel had ever given him credit for. Not satisfied with breaking his foes' body he had devised a new manner to torment his prey. What better way than striking a vampire than through the heart. If he succeeded Spike would be helplessly at his mercy. Worse yet he would be there of what he thought was his own free will.

_Not likely_, he had thought. Even Spike wouldn't fall for such a cliche. Not when he had seen such plot being formed, helping Angelus lure their own prey.

Angel had been proven wrong when he had followed to the gardens to see with his own eyes the painstaking task of choosing a flower. It was a Victorian means to send messages that he knew well having used it much with his own little pieces of art. Broken dolls that were normal people before he had masterfully destroyed them. Like Drusilla. Now Spike was going to be wooed into a false romance to get petty revenge on them all.

Spike had already fallen for the trap if his chose in a reply was any indication.

Angel had stared banefully at the crimson carnations for longer than he intended unable to understand how the other souled vampire had come to this. Not that making a stupid choice based on his lust was anything new. Par the course really.

Yet...how could he be so stupid?! For decades--over a hundred years really--the feud between their clan and Dracula had raged. Angel himself hadn't known about it until their stay at Worfram and Hart but Spike had been the one committing himself to act as man of the house. To protect the family honor (such as it was) and keep the women unharmed. How could Spike willingly submit himself to such an asshole?!

Making up his mind Angel snapped off the refusal bloom and gave chase after the boy. It hadn't been hard to switch out the flower for his own. Usually there would be more finesse to this, he certainly knew Spike well enough that he could have written a convincing fake note attached. All in all it was a rushed job that he suspected would be discovered. This would however buy them time to find a way to save Spike from his own stupidity.

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"You need not protest. I can plainly see the imprint of his work." To soften the impact of his statement Dracula kissed the scowling face. "These are not good tidings for a courtship." Lips pouted slightly at the thought of having to maneuver around an ex-lover. A snort told him that Spike found his distress amusing again (as was his way) and he dutifully ignored the little insults. He was starting to think that perhaps they were a sly manner to be affectionate without appearing to be. "The only occurrence that is worse is having to meet the family. ...Which occurs to me that this is rather a what you would call a "two for one" deal, yes? "

"Not like that, no." There was a tight quality that informed Dracula that perhaps he was hitting a sore subject. For once he decided not to pursue the matter.

"Do you...care for him?" Preempting Spikes' denials he silenced the protesting mouth with a simple press of his index finger. "I've heard you say that you were never "with" him where it mattered. Actions as they say speak louder than words. Both his and yours. You have not just been resisting my advances, have you? And he cares for you enough to attempt to stop our progression.

"I did not want to be quite so forward this quickly but Angelus has forced my hand. I want you to know my intentions, William, as I am certain they have already been colored through your own eyes. " Too bright eyes stared up at him impossibly fragile filled with such human emotions not the larger than life mask of fearlessness that he had come to know Spike by. "I wish for you to stay with me, not as my prisoner."

There's no escaping though he can tell from Spikes' twitching muscles that the instinct of resisting is still present. Not that he can entirely blame him, fear of this almost consumed him before this reckless pursuit started. Running isn't an option to Dracula anymore not when he has glimpsed the prize to be had. "You have said that you were open to exploring this. Do you want to?"

"Yeah." Spike croaked through a too dry throat.

Nodding once Dracula pushed himself away from his befuddled paramour. "Excellent. Regrettably I will have to leave shortly to see to the Mihai annoyance. We will continue when I return."

Spike blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his foggy vision. Then giving himself a rough head shake hie sputtered out, "Wot? Come again--think I heard wrong. Could have sworn you got me worked up, to the point me bits are making themselves known I might add, and said you're going to find some sodding Harry Potter wannabe!"

"Hmm, perhaps you know a little of the state you leave me in. As I said some other time." The Count added dryly at the two finger salute he was given in response."I will be departing soon. If you wish it you may stay in my chambers, I am certain you will find them more comfortable than your own."

"Might at that." Giving in to the impulse Spike leaned forward capturing Dracula by surprise. He was breathless, horny and not the least of which a little lonely. It might have covered his conflicting emotions better than wavering between fight and flight mode did.

Being invited back to the big mans' room. That was a huge step. Never slept in Buffys' room like a couple did. Used to love sharing a big bed with Dru where they would rest sated for hours at a time. Felt normal like that, yet the concept was so mind blowing to him at first. Having another body holding you through the night. Made it feel all the more worse to sleep alone after the break up. Being with Harm helped a little in that regard. She might have been useless in every other area but she liked to stay in bed cuddling before she'd ruin the moment by going on about some pointless thing. One good thing to be had from this separation would be the time to think on his next move. Well that and having a nice chat with Angel. Broody pants had a lot to answer for.


	47. Chapter 47

**Buffyplusangelequal4eve**r: Thanks.

**Anon: **Yep!

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"What does it do?"

Magic wasn't an area Carey had practiced in her studies. Her first watcher had thought that it would be wiser to have her learn another set of skills in case her "career" as a slayer fell through. They had never gotten the chance to get past the basics and Roger only seemed to care that she followed orders.

"I'm working on the spell that's going to break me free of the curse." Mihai confided. "Took awhile to gather everything I needed but once I get this done--whammo!"

"Whammo?"

"Yep!" He grinned back cheekily.

"This looks like an intense spell, you must have to channel it through yourself." Shut up already, Carey internally told herself. Babbling hadn't been her thing since before Mary died. Magic made her feel giddy though, in a way that most people felt about Christmas or so the Charlie Brown cartoon lead her to believe. "Nevermind, stupid question. Most magic has to be channeled through yourself to work."

"Not all though. Most seem to think it comes from a wand but in can be channeled through various mediums." Crouching in the center of his outlined circle he offered his hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Uh, no thanks. I sort of like the idea of not getting in the middle of a portal."

"No portal promise, I can give you an example. Come on, it'll be cool. Magics' fun not at all emo like the mass media wants you to think." Impishly he closed his hand opening it with a flourish to reveal a fresh lily.

Carey rolled her eyes suppressing the groan that welled up in her throat. "Yeah, it's more the cliche David Copperfield type of thing, huh?"

"Ouch, don't pull any punches do ya? Guess I'll take to up it a notch."

Flame bellowed up from the outline of the circle consuming his form. Nothing remained when the fire died leaving Carey a little bemused but far from impressed. Then little pinpoints of multicolored light was twirling around her almost like it was dancing to a special kind of music of it's own beat. Tentatively she touched a white burst of light compelled by curiosity perhaps to test for an illusion. Pure joy erupted from her fingertips spreading through her limps until it took her over completely. This wasn't a type of bottled drug that made her feel what someone else thought she should feel. It was innocent unbridled delight much like a child would find in discovering a new toy.

Somehow Carey knew that Mihai wasn't forcing her to feel this way it was more like an offer. Once accepted the emotions it invoked were taken from within her somewhere buried deep inside. Magic could be a dangerous thing but when used like this is was breathtaking. She forgotten how beautiful it was to witness it in person. How much it reminded her of Mary and her unflinching resolve to wield it responsibly. The connection Mihai had forged with her through her somewhat misguided curiosity showed her what he had meant by channeling power. This was what Mary felt every time she used a spell? God.

"Crap, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

She hadn't noticed the tears until then. Tears of joy? Sorrow? Hell, she had felt something. "You didn't. I'm fine."

"I just wanted to show you."

"Why? What did you get out of it?" Everyone wanted something in her experience and they were strangers. Naturally there had to be some catch. Sure enough Mihai blushed guilty rubbing the back of his neck out of habit. "I knew it."

"It's not like that. You're different from the others, sadder and I wanted to see you happy."

"Why?" She asked again.

"Like I said you're different from them, you're not ready to hear the rest. Not yet." The mage wasn't being entirely forthright with her. Irksome? Yeah, still Carey thought that she would have been more troubled if he had been more up front with her. She would play along for now.

In the shadows out of the other slayers range Jane watched the scene with growing unease. Why they were still there didn't make any sense to her. Mihai had refused to help them capture Angelus and his minions yet he allowed them to remain at his lair. They should have been out stopping the demons from slaughtering the masses. Carey of all of them was letting her self be sidetracked by pretty lights.

With a small inaudible huff Jane fled back to their watcher needing some reassurance that they were not abandoning their mission. Back with that disgusting piece of demon filth he had taught her a valuable lesson. Carey had been right about Roger, he knew the score where else the rest of the Council were allowing themselves to be corrupted. Her faith had been with the power god had seen fit to give her. Turning away from the responsibility to protect the people from monsters did not sit well with her. Jane refused to let this stand.

Much to her displeasure Roger was sitting down at the only actual chair at the main table where Mihai had his tools of the trade scattered about. Examining the items he mumbled to himself as he categorized the pieces. "If you have something to say my girl then don't waste my time by hovering about. State your business."

"Sir, are we going to engage Angelus soon?"

He laughed giving Jane a rare look of fondness. "Eager to get back to work are we? One of the first things the Council impresses among it's trainees, at least in my day, was patience. There are elements that one has to excise this in especially when opportunities strike. Take this set up this boy has." Roger chuckled to himself raising a sharp looking dagger.

"This is a rare Coongasu blade. There's only five in existence with the ability to drain energy...he's using it as a letter opener. Not everything you see is what it seems. A watcher learns this very early on my dear. Now let me teach you another lesson."

_Journal of Dracula,_

__

I am given the opportunity to strike my enemy a deadlier blow. The irony of having to act now when my own desire is so close at hand is not lost on me. By leaving I am risking the chance had securing Spike as my consort. Angelus seeks to stop me from accomplishing this. For years we have taken no interest in each others' movements save for the dealings with a certain rebellious vampire. Fitting I think that this would spur him on so. No matter what name he goes by this Angel takes from me through some means. This will not go on any further.

I could take Angel with me to slay in the battlefield without the truth ever reaching Spike. There is however no guarantee what his reaction would be to the news of Angels' death. I can not risk losing him, worse than that I will not risk losing him to Angel. His underhanded means while childish have set the playing field. I know what to expect from him. Thus I will return the favor. I am not the fool he takes me for to think that he will not attempt to steal Spike away in my absence. My brides will be my eyes and ears making certain that my will is enforced.

_I know that my mind must be on the battle ahead yet all I can think of is my stallion. Stubborn, beautiful and stronger than any being I have ever encountered. I have already made my plans for my return leaving instructions that Adela has chided me for. Yes, I confess it is a bit presumptuous of me and again it shows my lack of focus. It can not be helped, I am an utter fool with matters of the heart. This foolish? Not for an age. I feel young again, exhilarated, free. _

"Hello Spike."

Seemed that Spike didn't have to search far for Angel. The brunet was sitting causally as you please at the window in Spikes' chambers. As pissed off as he had been the sight had startled him. While pleasant enough for the human senses the room reeked of sex to the vampires'. Vlad and him had been active not too long ago. Memory clicked into place reminding him of when Buffy had seen him shagging Anya.

Flustered Spike felt like a harlot though he knew that he shouldn't have. Angel and him weren't an item though his reason for confronting the older man was because of his possessive nature. Bloody typical this was. They never wanted him yet they always cried foul when he did move on. Dru, Buffy and now sodding Angel.

"Wot the hell are you doing Angel?" With Vlad leaving, and the flower exchange fresh in his mind Spike was itching for a fight. A means to vent all his frustration. Nothing had ever been as satisfying as Angel baiting.

"We need to talk. Sit down."

"Don't tell me wot to do! 'M not your kid and even he wouldn't listen t' you!"

"Spike...please sit down." Angel was obviously willing himself to keep his temper in check knowing that this could and likely would get out of their control. It always did with them. He didn't use 'please' often with Spike and it showed. The smaller vampire fell silent deciding to lean against the wall to half compromise without having to actually sit. Sighing Angel started again. "I realize that I don't have a say in what you do. I never did even when I was trying to teach you how to hunt. Though I'd like to think that we changed since then. I guess I wasn't the most understanding guy when you came back through the amulet--"

"Bloody understatement of the year."

"Hey, I'm trying! You got to admit that you don't make things easy either!" No longer calm enough to remain seated Angel rose to his feet slowly pacing the space between the window and Spike. "I went through a similar phase so I know--"

"Hold on a tick. You 'went through a similar phase'?"

"Didn't I just say that?" The brunet complained. "Stop interrupting me!"

"Wot the hell are you taking 'bout Angel? Don't rightly remember hearing this chapter of 'The Young and the great Forehead.' Did you meet a dashing bloke that gave you that special feeling down below? Did you touch Wes' no-no area? Be honest pet, I won't judge. I'll laugh but I won't judge."

"Wha--no! I'm talking about when I made the mistake of sleeping with a soulless vampire when I was in a depression! You know, Darla?" This was quickly getting away from him. This was supposed to be a serious conversation to help another champion get back on track. First he was too mean for neglecting Spike now Angel was going to be deemed as too nosy. What the hell?

"'Couse I know 'bout her. Wot's that got to do with anything? You seemed fine enough when I gave Harm a tumble." Aside from the eye rolls Angel hadn't even commented on the whole soulless bit.

"First of all you knew that it was a mistake when you did it! Repeatedly! Souled and unsouled!" Abruptly the pacing stopped as Angel backpedaled. Hands on his hips, eyes wide with annoyance and teeth gritted he swung around to move into Spikes' personal space. "Second of all you were never serious with her and third this is _Harmony_! She's not exactly an evil mastermind! She made little pink unicorn post-it notes to remind herself of her meetings with Hamilton when she betrayed us! They actually said 'super secret plotting against Angel with Hamilton'!"

Spike nodded solemnly. "Right. ...S'wot's this got t' do with me?"

Winding up the poof was shamelessly immature but it felt brilliant. Truth be told he missed it when they had been separated. The little banter they would engage in, getting Angel furious. He didn't care a wit that he was pushing the other vampire closer and closer to losing his temper.

"You're letting your dick do the thinking for you, brain trust! You're giving it up for a guy you claimed was your arch-enemy! The one that swore vengeance against all of us! So hey, call me a skeptic for thinking something else was going on!"

"Oi! Not giving it up to anyone!"

"So what he's rolling over for you?" Angel challenged.

"Why not? You did!"

Instantly Spike regretted what he said wishing he could take those words back. This was the most directly they had spoken of that night since it happened. The reminder of it only complicated an already complex situation. Angels' face closed off and Spike just knew they would go on ignoring the giant elephant in the room per usual. For once Angel surprised him.

"Yeah, I did. I never meant for--"

"Save it, alright Angel? Know it was a mistake." What he really didn't need was to hear how much someone had been horrified of sleeping with him once the lust wore off. Been there, still spotting the not so healed over bruises.

"No, listen I know I'm not good at this kind of thing. And I sort of liked what we had before that. I never had anyone that really got it, you know?" Irritated with his own inability to say anything emotional in non-awkward ways Angel sighed absently running a hand though his spiked hair. "Sure Darla kind of did at the end but not how you get it. There's always been this thing between us, sort of like a scale of how much of each other we can stand. We can only do so much until it all comes tumbling down. I knew that but I've always been weak and you were so..."

"I was what Angel? Available? Easy?" Spike bit out hating how much his hurt shone though.

"No! It wasn't like that!" He denied. With roughly a foot separating them Angels' big brown eyes bore into Spike as if searching for the answers there. "You were amazing." His voice was small, barely a whisper filled with awe like a little boy discovering snow for the first time. "I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

"I remember."

Heady images of that night replayed in both their minds. Caresses that touched further than mere flesh. Kisses that never seemed to end. Bodies that fit so perfectly together that they seemed to have been crafted for each other. "I never meant to..."

The fragile moment broke just like that. Spike smiled ruefully at himself for getting drawn in like that. "Never do."

"Hear me out Spike. This thing you have with him, you know it can't work out. Let's even forget about the whole revenge part. He's a soulless vampire that kills his prey. You're a champion with a soul. Can you really stay with him knowing what he does every night? "

For that Spike didn't have an answer.


	48. Chapter 48

**VB:** Thanks, I'm working on it but those awkward Angel and Spike scenes are hard to write.

**Scifirn**: Yes, that's it exactly. Dracula knows what he wants, Spike has no idea what he wants at this point, and Angel doesn't even want to get into his issues. I liked writing Angel tell Spike, the master of seeing the truth, a pretty basic fact. Yes Angel is pretty dense but he does have some experience and does know Spike very well. Once again you got it nailed. This is a major part of the story. Spikes' never been confused where's his hearts' concerned before. But given his soul, his past affairs, the recent confusion with Angel and now this thing with Vlad he doesn't know where to turn. Is he Spike or William? More vampire or human?

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Some kid was following Spike everywhere refusing to leave him alone with Angel unless one of the brides came in or his mother called. This brought an amusing side effect of pissing off Angel though Connor thought it was more for the glares and the kick to the shins than the boys' presence. It couldn't have helped that Spike rubbed it in.

"What the hell is his deal?" Angel grumbled frowning mightily at the small glowering form sitting by the younger vampires' side. The boy, Peter stuck out his tongue. Angel followed suit before he realized how stupid it would make him look and returned his face to it's former pointed look. The one that used to leave people pissing in the their pants. This had no effect other than making Peter narrow his eyes. Angel unconsciously copied the pose.

Looking over his shoulder at the staring contest his father was engaged in Connor raised an eyebrow. "Offhandedly--and this is just a guess--I'd say he doesn't like you."

From across the table Faith snorted into her drink. Staring at the bear skin rug approvingly Illyria couldn't be bothered to listen to the babbling of lessers which was more than fine for everyone else. When Spike was distracted by one of Draculas' harlem (Angel didn't know nor care who was who) Peter scribbled down on his little notepad. Curiosity piped he watched as the boy brought it up to his chest to reveal what he wrote. One word in four large unmistakable letters.

"LIAR."

Forehead furrowed in confusion Angel caught the eye roll as Peter pointed to the word and to Angel to illustrate his point. The brunet returned to his glaring.

"Aw don't feel bad, we love ya, Angel." Great, now Faith was mocking him.

"Do not speak for me, Slayer. I may tolerate the half-breed, that does not mean that I harbor fondness for him." There was a pause as Illyria thoughtfully tapped the nose of the rug. "I do find this 'hair product' of his most fascinating. ...It taste of mint and acids."

"That was you!" Brown eyes finally turned away from the child to give their full indignation to impassive unnaturally blue eyes.

"Who did you think was eating it?" Connor had to ask.

"I didn't think anyone was eating it," Angel bit out," I thought Spike was using it!"

"OI! I don't use your nancy boy hair gel!" It seemed like something had finally caught Spikes' attention away from the shanky bimbos and Draculas' pet boy.

The two men bickered among themselves despite the attempts Draculas' people made to regain Spikes' attention back. Unnoticed by them a look of understanding pasted between Faith and Illyria. Quirking her head to the side the god-king received a firm nod in return. The small almost smile shone on her pale face that would have frightened the vampires if they had seen it. Soundlessly she existed the room to fulfill a task that was hers alone.

Hiding a smirk behind to carefully placed boots on the dining table (much like the manner Spike occasionally favored) Faith caught Connors' questioning glance. Placing her forefinger to her lips Faith made the universal gesture for "keep it quiet" though she liked to think that her posture also added "shut the fuck up about it." His lips formed a grimace looking very much like Angel when he was put upon an annoying task that he knew was going to backfire. She narrowed her eyes to focus in on that odd familiar look.

Huh, that was weird.

At that point Spike and Angel were in each others' faces, their chaperons having lost patience with trying to separate them. She knew the body language even if it was at odds with what their repressed selfs thought it was about. Angel was dominating Spikes' space, his every move either getting up close or poised to get attention from the other man. Spike being Spike couldn't back down from the challenge throwing his own body forward to push the brunet away. Except that he lingered a little too closely, returned Angels' stare a little too long.

This was purely sexual tension coming into play and Faith silently thanked Santa for delivering early this year. Because these boys were fucking hot together. The intensity there was undeniable. Angels' eyes flickered to Spikes' mouth, expression softening. Spike nervously swallowed absently licking his lips.

The moment was held a few more seconds before Elsa yanked Spike away to rejoin the side of the room occupied with Draculas' loyal supporters. Shoulders tensed but Angels' face only reflected utter confusion.

"You're wrong."

Mihai gave a shrug like he was indifferent to the matter but his eyes gave him away. Five hours into his curse breaking ritual and a mostly idle one way conversation later a black fog had lifted from the young mans' body. He claimed that he was free from his shackles but Carey wasn't entirely convinced.

Somehow their professional highly impersonal exchanges had turned towards the direction her life was heading. Carey didn't like the attention nor the implication that she was some sort of broken girl in the need of recusing. Yes she knew that she was royally screwed up but that wasn't anyones' business save her own, thank you very much. The only reason she had allowed their little chat to go on was that at least with this guy around Carey felt a little more like her old self.

With the others, Roger and now Jane, there was a heaviness Carey had long since grown tired of. But there was no other option left for her at this point. Not that this stupid wizard wannabe would see that.

"No, I'm not. You have the desire for something better, you just need a little help. You can be so much more than them." He's earnest about it. Strange but Carey never really paid too much notice to emotional quirks before. And being around guys has been pretty much nil. It's just, and this sounds absurd to her, Mihai seemed a little taken by her perhaps? Maybe that was wishful thinking on her part, boys have never liked her other than the usual leering and crude come ons.

Was this another game? "Yeah? And what if I said that I wanted to find my own way without your so-called 'help?' "

"Then at least you'd be walking towards something worthwhile." The smile was mysterious like he knew a secret he was practically begging her to ask just so he could flaunt it. Chanting he signals her that the next spell, the portal, is beginning. Time to round the troops then.

"Your focus is divided, my lord."

Dracula smiled bitterly at Adela rather pointed comment. "You know me of long, Adela. I can be a man of great patience but I am not fond of being played for a fool. Angelus will attempt to take what is rightfully mine. It is in his nature. I will be made to wait hoping that my William stays true though he has made no such commitments to me. "

The further away from the castle they rode the more nagging the feeling of jealous grew. A feeling he had not felt in several life times. They had arrived at the spot where Mihais' portal would open to await the boys' arrival and put an end to the foolishness. All Vlad could think of was Spikes' pale skin lying across crimson silk sheets, face caught in ecstasy. A fine line of sweat on his burrow dripping with every unneeded pant that shook the lithe frame. Reassuring thoughts that he would fully have Spike at last were overridden by darker images in his minds' eye. Try as he might it wasn't himself that had the english vampire on his back but this Angel.

How many times had the brunet made Spike cry out with pleasure? Hands digging harshly into flesh enough to bruise, shared flesh moving in tuned with each other. How many times had Spike spread himself out for Angel wantonly offering his body to his sires' sire?

Looking back at his first encounter of the two together he can recall new details that he forgot. Little things that seemed unimportant then. The almost protectiveness Angel displayed when he offered himself as a true rival in Spikes' place. The constant bickering held an unwilling fondness that neither man would admit. For the first time Vlad pondered if there was a real chance that Spike would leave him for Angel.

Surely not...they were not always on such good terms if memory recalled correctly.

"Would you ease my mind by fulfilling a request if I asked it of you?"

The elder blinked at the question not sure if she was going to like the answer. "I should hope so, I can not rightly say until I know what is required of me."

Vlad offered a smile so cruel and filled with such malicious intent that Adelas' breath was robbed from her body.

Connor had fallen asleep an hour ago, Angel knows this because he still recalled what the even breaths of his son sounded like. He's far from sleepy himself, a little irked that Faith seemed to send Illyria off to track the Count without consulting him but too distracted to really care. A new perspective was needed that was all. That was why he was scaling the side of the castle like a mad man to talk with the only other vampire with a soul in existence. Insane, possibly, but Angel needed to plot a plan with someone who knew how he thought. Or hell just vent for whatever reason. This restlessness was killing him almost as much as the stupid spiked gargoyle he had to maneuver around.

The normal route was ruled out given how overprotective Dracula's lackeys were acting and hey he did think he did the wall scaling pretty well. Unfortunately Spike wasn't still a night owl. Huffing a little at the risks he took for this meeting to once again receive a lackluster response Angel crept towards the bed to wake the younger vampire up. With luck they could be out of this place before dawn and out of the country in a day if they found the underground tunnels Darla had been searching for on their last visit. If Mihai arrived then there was a chance they could use him as a means of escape. Angel didn't know, too many ideas were buzzing around his head.

Spike might laugh at him if he confessed how out of sorts he had been feeling lately. Though why he would tell Spike any of his inner demons was beyond him. On the nightstand a candle still burned leaking wax at the candlesticks' base. A faint smile graced Angels' lips when he caught the still opened book. In their early days he could usually find William with his nose in a book. Usually he'd forget to blow out the flame wasting candles and once nearly killing them all in the fire. Those--those weren't such bad memories actually.

Shaking himself from such oddly sentimental thought he sat on the beds' edge. "Spike!" Angel hissed shaking the slumbering figure.

Mumbling unintelligibly the slighter man shifted. "Come on!"

"In a m'ment, luv." A lazy grin spread across the otherwise lax face. "Back t' bed, pet."

"We don't have time t--"Brown eyes popped wildly at the soft contact of Spikes' mouth on his. Nibbling a little a tongue brushed against Angels' lips to seek entry. Too stunned to move the brunet found himself unable to put up much of a fight against a half asleep half horny vampire. Sheets slid when Spikes' leg rolled over to halfheartedly trap Angel on his side.

Naked Spike!

Suddenly they were back to that night when they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. The lull of the other mans' kisses was too strong to resist. Forgetting the purpose of the visit his hands crept up to the small of Spikes' back. Moaning Spike deepen the kiss, shamelessly rubbing himself against the brunet. Angel broke away to excite a curse.

"You..."Shaking his head Angel tried again,"...I..."

Eyelashes fluttered open,"...oh balls."

Yeah, that summed it up nicely.


	49. Chapter 49

**Tsuki Fox:** Thank you, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's not so much Illyria planning something than deciding that Faiths' idea was interesting enough to follow through on. And plus she's bored with nothing to crush underneath her heel. You'll get what Vlad has in mind but it may not be what you think it is.

**angelplusbuffyequals4ever:** Thanks.

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Why did he have to have such an active imagination? This wouldn't be the first time a dream had left Spike hard and wanting. Sadly it hadn't been the first time Angel had caught him in such a situation either. Matter of fact Angelus used to take advantage of it if memory served, least when it stroke his fancy. Keep in mind that was back when the bloke got laid regularly so the taking wasn't as much as one would assume. This Angel, all soulful and angst stricken was staring at him with those big chocolate eyes of his. Caught in that fine line between his heroic pompously self-righteous self and his darker more lustful impulses.

Damn it if the stupid sod doesn't look right sumptuous. Best place the blame before the git realizes how this is affecting Spikes' lower bits. "Wot the--?!"

"You kissed me!" The tosser accused beating him to the punch.

"I was asleep you, twat!" He countered indignantly. " 'M the innocent party here!"

"Yeah, well you might want to tell your 'innocent' leg that." Angel pointed out motioning at the offending limb that was wrapped around the Powers champions' hip. Bugger.

"OI! You kissed me back knowing that I wasn't awake completely taking advantage of me!" Ha! Take that poofter! Victory at hand Spike added another mark in his column," I mean just look at at wot your paws are doing to my poor but well defined bottom!"

Angels' gaze flickered down to see that his hands were in fact kneading the bare cheeks. The wanker seemed so confused at his own hands betrayal that Spike almost gave in to the impulse to laugh. Right awkward this was best not to make it worse. For himself that is. "Wot are you doing here, peaches? Thought you give little Liam a good ploughing while junior was taking his nappies?"

Spike was rather proud that he had kept his emotion in check. For the most part. He didn't fancy another trip down memory lane and thought he had made himself clear on the subject. Not that Angelus had ever gave a damn what he wanted. Oh right, another 'nothing is yours' lesson. If the pillock couldn't (or wouldn't) sleep with Vlad then he would show Spike that his body wasn't his either. No it wasn't fair to think that Angel would still harbor these type of thoughts but what else was there that he'd want from Spike?

"Will you stop thinking I'm trying to molest you! ...Alright, other than the molesting I'm currently doing!" He added at Spikes' raised eyebrow. Stupid hands wouldn't stop fondling Spike self-proclaimed 'sweet arse' and Angel found he couldn't really dispute the claim. They were indeed well defined.

No. Now his mind was listening to his evil hands. Worfram and Hart had to behind this. Yeah, this was one of their ploys to get him to feel Spike up. For some reason he couldn't fathom but would mean the end of the world. Somehow. ...Alright, admittedly that plan had more holes in it than the last vampire Illyria had torn through. But they were evil, their plans didn't have to make sense!

"Umm, can't help noticing that your hands are still on me arse. Don't blame you mate, 's a nice bum but my face is a little higher than that."

"You lost weight."

The comment seemed so random and out of context that Spike temporary forgot what point he was trying to get across. "Eh?"

"I mean I knew you lost weight after being with Finns' dumb ass soldiers," Spike snorted, really was fun to have someone share his view on Captain Dull. Fingers trailed from Spikes' rear across his hips to settle on his stomach. "You became leaner, just not like this."

"Like what...?" A warning came with the question that Angel might have been too thick to pick up on.

"You're still recovering--I didn't realize you had lost so much weight."

Brown met blue as their gazes locked and Spike became very aware of Angels' touch creating trails of fire along his flesh. Swallowing the lump in his suddenly dry throat he finally asked, "Why are you here?"

An ironic self-patronizing twist of his lips crossed Angels' face like he had been asking himself that very question. "Do you mean here here or in Romania?"

"Either. Not like we've ever been the best of mates." He ignored the twinge of hurt he felt, Spike was good at pretending. Sometimes he could even fool himself. "Never made it a secret that you can't stand the bloody sight of me. Why come halfway around the world for me instead of cutting your losses? And don't tell me it's because you need me for the fight. You got more than enough people in L.A. to work as muscle."

More than that Spike was sodding sick of hearing that was the only reason he was worth anything to the wonderful chosen lot. A full minute passed with Angels' face looking right constipated in his sorry excuse of an attempt at caring. Wasn't like he was waiting for a confession of undying love just something. Forgot that was still asking to much from the king of the about face. "Right."

"I'm here, doesn't that count for anything?" Angels' tone was soft, not the sort he'd use with him. Sweet, gentle like he wanted to protect something fragile. The moment could have teetered in either direction. A month ago it would have been the start of a brawl.

"Reckon it does at that." At least the answer was honest, much as Angel was capable of being with him. They didn't move for a spell as time marched on lest the unspoken truce break. Idly Angels' hands drew shapes on Spikes' pale skin without realizing it. Not that there was any objection from Spike. Both of them were miles away. Not surprising, Spike knew that they would never be on the same wavelength after the one night stand. No one was ever truly with him in that sense. "Mind telling wot made you decide to play King Kong?"

A not-quite-that-cute pout formed when Angel shrugged. "Connor was asleep so I figured we could, umm, hang out?"

"Aw, that's the sweetest bullshite you ever told me, peaches." Smirking at the abased vampire above him Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Being as 'm hanging out so to speak, what did you have in mind?"

"I just--we just need to talk, Spike." If Angel had been paying attention to Spikes' face he would have seen the alarm, perhaps even noticed the hitch of his breath. "We all have to make choices soon. Faith has made her stance clear, Connor wants to help and Illyria, well she doesn't really care so long as she gets to crush something. "

"Yeah? Where do you stand? Can't see you giving a shite about this bloody stupid idea Rupert has got in his head."

"I don't. Well beyond the fallout that's sure to happen but I figure that's a given anyway. The Council has always thought themselves to be the biggest bully around no matter who's in charge. They underestimate the power their up against and that arrogance always costs them. Faith risked everything she's built to come here, Spike. She wants to see this through as her last official act as a council sponsored slayer. Fine. We own her that much. I wouldn't abandon her under normal circumstances and I won't now. I already made myself clear but she's not listening to me. I figure she'll learn the hard way that the council still doesn't work." Sighing heavily Angel rolled onto his back to stare out at the darkened sky. "She's strong but I don't want her to lose hope again."

"Lass had you last time. Strength in numbers and all that." Sometimes Spike wondered if their roles were reversed if Angel would have helped him cope with the soul or turned him away. No matter how hard he tries to imagine it he can't. Buffy could barely stand the sight of him, why would Angel who knew him far better do anything different?

"What about you?"

So lost in his own musing Spike had to tilt his head to the side to stare up quizzically. Was Angel asking who gave him strength? Trick question then, for that answer always changed. Was it a caring platonic figure like his mum, Joyce, Dawn, Fred or Connor? Or romantic like Cecily, Drusilla and Buffy? All his life had been devoted to loving someone regardless if they felt the same or not. Now...now it simply wasn't enough. He felt drained of giving his all and desperately wanted a taste of that promised love he had always been denied.

And Angel...Angel would never understand that. The man didn't live by his heart like he did. Angel plotted out course of actions, and repressed himself where Spike couldn't lest he explode. Though he never realized it Angel was loved, greatly, by many. He had friends, lovers that loved him for him, a son, and a great destiny wanting for him. To everyone that knew them Spike would always be the second vampire with a soul. He had lived all his soulless unlife under Angels' shadow and nothing had changed in that respect with the soul.

God, he wanted--no needed--something to keep him going on. "Wot?"

"Where do you stand in all this?" There was a quiet serious quality to the brunet that gives him pause. Like the answer was important but why would anything he said mean jack to the leader man?

"Think old Rup has his head firmly up his arse on this score." Spike snorted at the mental image that gave him. "Not that that's terribly shocking. Figures that Red isn't that reliable so it's best to cover their rears instead of letting it blow up in their faces again. Funny how they think you're untrustworthy but are willing to cut a deal that keeps them out of a country filled with vamps."

"That's not what I meant." At Spikes' confusion Angel clarified. "Do you want to stay and fight?"

"Course, 'm always up for a little fight. Not going to let them have all the fun." Wouldn't let Connor and Faith get killed over this blunder. And he was sort of Blues' guide which he supposed meant that he had to keep an eye on her. Made sure she ripped off the right heads and all that.

"I mean," Angel sighed in frustration taking an obvious effort to calm himself," did you think about what I said."

Oh right, that. Spike shrugged casually like it wasn't a big deal. "Given it some thought, yeah."

" 'Given it some thought?!' " The older vampire repeated incredulously. "This isn't a question about what kind of wine you want with dinner, Spike! We're talking about a vampire that actively seeks out humans to murder for appetizers on a daily basis with a sadistic streak to match us! Damn it Spike, I thought you claimed to be better than this!"

"It's complicated, alright?!"

"Why, because your dick is involved?! When I made a deal with Worfram and Hart to try to save Cordelia and Connors' lives you said that I was selling out! That I was being corrupted! You're in bed with evil--literally!" A thick finger was jabbed into Spikes' shoulder. Hissing at the annoyance he sat up to get into Angels' personal space. "And no I don't mean me so shut up!"

Damn the man knew him too well.

"Why is it so different when you're offered power, luxury, and all that entails? You're not even doing it for anyone but yourself! And I'm supposed to what, not mention how pussy whipped--oh sorry--prick whipped you are?!"

Spike snarled launching himself at the other man. The impact sent them both tumbling to the floor. Angel grunted in pain but Spike didn't allow him to recover before his fists started flying. The solid smacks were more than satisfying, so much so that he didn't notice Angels' feet until it was too late. Ears ringing from the hit Spikes' groan hid the bastards movements from his ears. Large mitts grabbed his shoulders flipping him over and forcing him onto his stomach. The big guy leaned in close, flattening him to the rug, fingers flexing over Spikes' wrists. No escape.

"Now will you listen?" Angel grunted through a bruised lip. Fighting back Spikes' body shifted and they both stilled. Seemed that the brief struggle had awaken something in Angel if what was poking in him in the rear was what he thought it was. Apparently it was because Angel swore letting go of his hold.

"We have to stop doing this."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Tortured brown eyes appealed to blue. "I--"

"I mean it, Angel. I--we can't keep doing this. I'm sick of the drama, and the violence. I'm just..."Spike ran his hand through his hated curls wondering absently if he could find a decent pair of scissors. "...I'm tired of the whole rot. 'M not stupid enough to think we'd ever be the latest it couple. Or that I'd ever give you perfect happiness. No worries there mate."

Resting his pounding head against the side of the bed Spike gave Angel a bitter smile. "Know you think I don't think properly, that I'm a right caveman. Not much sense running on instinct. That me loins run me head and my heart blinds the eyes all the time. S'not true. Not always. Truth is that I did expect more from you Angel, just not wot you thought I did. I don't know if anyone could ever truly love me but I never ever even entertained the ridiculously notion that you could. Thought...hell, it doesn't matter wot I thought. Rubbish anyway. Just wanted you to know that I never thought of you like Dru or Buffy. Never harbored any dreams of joint unions."

"What did you want?" Daring to speak, to acknowledge the events that they had both been trying so hard to ignore Angel seemed a little lost. Generally curious even.

"Honesty? An end to all to all these bleeding mind games? Like I said, it doesn't matter. Should have known better than think that you of all people would get that." He thought it would have been freeing to say what had been on his mind for so long. It wasn't.

"What, like you ever make anything easy? You say you don't want," Angel flinched a "commitment" drawing an eye roll from Spike," but you cling to anybody you're with!"

"Yeah, we both know how clingy I was with Harm. Pull the other one wanker. You patented the angsty vampire clingy role with anything that has a set of tits. You're just pissed because I know how full of shite you really are."

"Okay, fine I'm giving you Harmony, you happy?!"

"Thrilled." Spike bit out sarcastically.

"But you always, always want attention from me--"

"I bloody do not!" He denied.

"--from the day we first met! Have you ever thought for a second that maybe I didn't need that kind of pressure? As far as women are concerned, yes I screwed up there. I don't want to repeat my mistakes, so there."

"Are you very high?" Getting to his feet to stare down at the still sitting Angel, Spike made a face. "You sodding love every second you're in the spotlight! Your knickers get in a twist when you're not! And I'm not a woman, tosser!"

Glaring right back and ignoring Spikes' nudeness Angel stood as well. "I do not! You're the A.D.D limelight stealing brat here, not me! And you could have fooled me, you're pretty like one!"

They both blinked. "Was that supposed to be an insult or a piss poor come on?"

"You know, I'm not really that sure." Huh. Weird. Angel rubbed the back of his neck nervously talking to his shoes. "Are you turned on?"

Bugger yes. "No."

"Oh...no it wasn't a come on." They always did this to each other. Got all alpha male and got right horny with the fights. It had to stop not just because he was sort of courting Vlad either. No he had promised nothing to the other vampire but this wasn't fair to any of them. "In case I never said it I am sorry that things got out of hand like they did. I guess I thought it would have been worse if we kept up the pretense longer."

Perhaps Angel had genuinely meant for that to be a heartfelt apology. The problem was that all he heard was that it hadn't been real for Angel like it was for him. Not love but Spike had felt something real and heartfelt. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Did it matter? No, they both had agreed that this was for the best, hadn't they? Sort of?

"Neither of us are in relationship-y places anyway. Not that we were in one or even want to be in one."

"Right." Half listening to the babbling vampire he sunk into the bed.

"Oh good. For a second I thought you were serious about--but you're not. Which is good. Because hey, he's evil and you're not anymore. Mostly." Angel went on cheerfully unaware that Spikes' mood had shifted. "Yeah, we're good."


	50. Chapter 50

**SciFirn**: I firmly believe Faith would be a strong Spangel supporter. ;) Well I did promise some Angel/Spike scenes. There's a lot of history between them that makes it hard for them to be totally honest with each other. Spikes' usually very open even when he knows it will only bring him pain, yet he's more guarded around Angel. Last chapter both of them reached a point where they could be honest with each other. Spikes' sick of the mixed signals and is ready for a real balanced relationship. He doesn't think that he can get that with Angel, who has never given him that much affection and has lots of control issues. Angel in return doesn't think that their a good fit, all they seem to do is fight and he doesn't want a real partner at the moment. After the pain of losing the only two women he's ever loved within eight year period, losing Darla (who he's claimed never to love) twice, and Connor a fair few times he simply doesn't want to put himself out there more than he has to. I think the Scoobies in general affected both of them, even Spike said they were doing their "hang-y thing" in season 5. Thank you, all of them are wonderful characters.

**angelplusbuffyequalsforever**: Thanks.

**Tsuki Fox**: I admit that Angels' rather dorky idiot trait is one that frustrates me as well as endears me to his character. The only one he's ever loved that he will always make himself honest about is Connor. I can't say of course what Vlad has planned. He may not even be able to do it but we will see (finally) more of Vlads' flaws and how much Spike has changed from the soulless vampire mind frame. Angel raised a point that Spike didn't want to think about once he started to get involved with Vlad. At the moment Spike is seriously considering what he was offered.

**candle stix**: Thank you. One of the things I sort of hate but tried to do since William Restored was pull back his mask to let William out more. I will have more Spike loving in the future. The comics from IDW are usually pretty good. I loved After the Fall, Spike has his own mini series based on it too. His love life isn't really good per se in them, something that is too complex to describe here, but he has great character interactions and his affection for Angel is apparent though he denies it several times.

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_What we need to know about loving is no great mystery. We all know what constitutes loving behavior; we need but act upon it, not continually question it. Over-analysis often confuses the issue and in the end brings us no closer to insight. We sometimes become too busy classifying, separating, and examining, to remember that love is easy. It's we who make it complicated.  
~ by Leo Buscaglia ~_

Eager eyes glanced her way and Carey tried to feign indifference. Okay, she might have a tiny crush on Mihai which was confusing the hell out of her. Carey prided herself on not being one of those fawning little girls that went to pieces over someone much less a boy she had only just meant. This wasn't what being a slayer was about anyway. All the lore told of the foolishness that attractions led. Men in her experience weren't like they were in the media. She knew this but it felt sort of...nice to feel like this. For so long there hadn't been a thing to make her feel anything beyond the loss of Mary and the sense of betray the new council brought.

This was not something that could be allowed to go any further. Logically this could easily be a ploy of the mage to gain her aid in order to attempt to fracture them should the slayers come in conflict with him later. Normally Roger would make a comment about such attention directed at her. Perhaps he didn't notice it? Carey had been playing it down to the best of her effort trying to glare Mihai into halting his weird advances. Which he never seemed to heed unless they were with the others. Though it had been a near thing when his face had gone beet red when they brushed hands over the jar of newt eyes.

God, even her almost-romantic life was freaky.

Soon they would be tagging along with his troops to find Angelus and his people. Mihai would seek out his own foe in Dracula. Allies of convenience nothing more. For a moment Carey had worried that they would have to halt his mission to achieve their own goal. Roger had assured her that this was mutually beneficial to all of them, that they would not enforce Rupert Giles' idiotic deal with the devil. Everything was well in hand he promised.

For once Carey cared about his sincerity.

Mihai seemed like a good person. Oddly it was a long while since she had felt she met someone like that. Appearance might be deceiving but she trusted her gut. Instinct had served her well. It was screaming that something was terribly wrong. How she hadn't pieced together quite yet. The soldiers went first through the portal echoing the ensuring sounds of battle from the other end.

Mary told her that all magic came with a price. The more dangerous type ate away at the user. Portals, no matter what was used to create them, always were tricky. The commute through dimensions Mihai had to his lair weren't the same as making a direct path. No matter how powerful he was this was going to put a serious strain on him. Anything else: "--Would put a serious risk to the world at large. Lotta people seem to think that if they got power then the rules don't apply to them. Their wrong." He confessed before he set about his own task.

Keeping it open this long was going to cost him, which at worst would be a power drain and tiredness. Carey hoped that was the worst of it.

---------------------------------

Driving his sword through his enemies with little effort Vlad risked turning his gaze to Adela. Not a true match for the power of Mihai she could not close the damned portal. Dared not risk it. The fleet on the other hand were more a threat by their greater number than their skill. Spraying their blood across the field was a delight he hadn't engaged in far for too long. Bloodlust sang through his veins making the killing more brutal. Another factor he neglected in years past. Passion used to be split between his hunting and partners. True desire waned for years with little to fill his interest. If he recalled correctly only his interactions with Spike had brought that interest back. A sign perhaps, that he ignored due to pride?

Spike was passion given flesh much like Vlad had once considered himself. Such happiness he felt with the other vampire around was worth fighting for. The missing piece that was long sought for but never realized until then. With his brides, their home--now Spike could be part of that life. He could be content like he never had been. A romantic heart that matched his own. Though Vlad must admit he wasn't overly fond of the poetry his lover wrote. A pout of disappoint was quickly covered up when he hinted this but Vlad shouldn't lie should he?

Hmm, perhaps love was a battlefield after all. Now he was forced to contend with a former lover for Spikes' affections.

Absently wiping the warm blood fleck from his face Vlad hacked through his next victim. Aldela didn't know what his plan was yet for dealing with that particular roadblock. Approval might not be forthcoming if she knew. If not he imagined himself skilled enough to accomplish it without her help. A smirk lit his face revealing his fangs much to his opponents' dismay. No, Angel would never be with Spike again. Of that he would make certain.

-----------------------------

Sarah, Michelle and Alison raced off to fight their way towards the demons Carey supposed. The plan was a bit fuzzy with her mind divided like it was. Resolutely squaring her shoulders she offered a faint smile to thank Mihai for trying. But she knew she was a lost cause. Dark eyes were already glued on her retreating form though. Smoldering like he didn't know that they would likely never see each other again. Saying anything to that affect would be pointless and overly sentimental. Carey was too practical to give into such a whim. Might have been nice if things were different.

Half turned a flash of light made her pause in her steps. Behind her Jane stood next to Roger looking blanked faced. That's all the warning Carey got before she realized that Jane was keeping him covered. A dagger slipped out of the watchers' sleeve and into Mihais' chest faster than a man that age should be able to move. There's no scream only a gasp of shock and two pained eyes staring at her.

"What the hell is going on?" It should be yelled, hell it should have some sort of emotion but she can hardly breathe herself. "You said that you wouldn't--"

Light shimmered through the blade handle drawing something out from the body. Roger lifted an eyebrow as if he's mildly surprised that she would ask such a question. "I said that there would be no dealing with the vampire and that I would not have Mihai killed. Nothing has changed. The power this boy has will be put to good use, ensuring that Draculas' forces will not have a leg to stand on. As for him, he'll live. I need him alive to retain the power flow."

Pulling out the blade made Mihai cry out crumbling to the floor. "Young people these days are all talk and no action. The true leaders find the solutions when everyone else is occupied. Hormones do that, don't they? Now, let's end this, shall we?"

----------------------------

There was a great distrubance in the air. Magic was being bleed out warped into another shape that didn't suit it. Lightening lit the sky, the ground shook and an acidy scent lingered heavily. Not being close enough to see what came out of the portal Vlad didn't get to see what the commotion was. Not that it mattered for long. Bodies frozen mid-motion, the only sound to be heard were four sets of legs sprinting through the crowd. The cries of vampires dusting gave their identities away. Slayers. One, a girl with dull eyes and a blood stained scarf around her neck blinked at him before she pressed past him to cull the herd of demons further. Three of the girls were efficent with their chore while the fourth showed more pleasure with her hacking. Unable to so much as flex his fingers all Vlad could do was watch those around him being cut down. The gleefully violent girl noticed him finally walking purposely towards him.

"You're the worst of them, aren't you?"

He smiled wanly. "As are you, little one."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. Pulling back her arm he saw the long wooden tool she was using as a weapon. More of a pike than a true stake. How ironic. Vlad didn't know if one such as him could fear death anymore but all he could think of was the man he left behind. Strangely he felt the absence of Spike most acutely at that moment.

"That's enough girls. We have them at a manageable size." English, self-important--a watcher naturally. One of the older order it seemed. Why the supposed First Evil didn't have the foresight to eliminated the whole lot was another example of why most ancient evils were useless. At least Worfram and Hart was actually organized. "Count Dracula I take it."

"Obviously." Watchers, the true blight on the world. Thinking they were better than everyone because of their limited knowledge proving how little they really understood with each breath they took.

"Framed for his cruelity with his victims since he was human. Previously known as Vlad the Impaler--" The old man droned on.

"I am aware of who I am. I do not know who you are besides a member of the Council. I do not truly care. You will pay for this."

A new girl stood behind her fellow slayers holding the body of a boy, his blood was intoxicating. Of a familiar line. Was this the infamous Mihai? This day was filled with disappointments.

Power crackled from the oldest mans' hand. "I was teaching. That's what we watchers do. We examine and find the best manner to bring about the desired result."

"You desire death? You need not make such elaborate attempts." Adjusting his glasses the man chuckled.

"My, I will never get over the arrogance of you creatures. I've forgotten how the oldest of your kind has such deluded minds." A smack cut off Vlads' reply. No human should have that kind of strength. Mihais' stolen power then...? "Collect the blood, Michelle. I am Roger Wyndham Pryce and these young ladies are the slayers in my command."

He was far too old to roll his eyes but Vlad felt the urge hard to resist.

"I have no need of introductions. By violating my agreement with the council you will simply be another meal. Though I would prefer something that had taste. I do not care for staleness."

"Charming." Wyndham Price commented airily. "They start off like this you know. Looking stern--unbreakable. In the end their just like any other vampire. Utterly unremarkable. With the same weaknesses to exploit."

----------------------------

Spike would not like this, what little Illyria understood of emotion told her this. The slayer--Faith and her had constructed a course of action to see if this Dracula was plotting behind their backs. This new development was not entirely shocking. They knew Wesleys' father and his slayers would come after them. The transfer between Mihai and him was unexpected. Others would caution her to not engage yet. But she was Illyria. No one commanded a god-king. Of course she would not act until she understood what strange alliance was happening. Illyrias' pet was mating with Dracula and she was curious about Wesleys' father.

If the fallen king grew upset (which he normally did) that was for his own pets to see to not her. Though perhaps he would be sharing his body with Spike. An almost pout formed on Illyrias' face. Would she never see the practice of these mating rituals?


End file.
